Emergence of Heritage
by Icedragonmo3
Summary: No Slash, but be warned, contains a few lesbians. Set in Harry’s sixth year, Harry discovers that within his blood lies something that was only thought to have existed in myth. A male Veela Rating changed to R just to be safe winks
1. Strange Behavior

Title: Emergence of Heritage  
  
Summary: Set in Harry's sixth year, Harry discovers that within his blood lies something that was  
only thought to have existed in myth.. A Male Veela *No Slash*  
  
Disclaimer: Don't own a damn thing. To quote another, "No money, No harm, No foul"  
  
*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~ *~*~*~*  
  
Harry sat down into his usual seat at the breakfast table, the headache he had been experiencing since his sixteenth birthday still ever present. To make matters worse, he now had intense pain in both his shoulder blades. He was not, as you could tell, a 'happy camper'.  
  
Groaning as he settled into his seat, he looked up and winced as he caught one of his best friends, Hermione, watching him intently with a worried expression on her face.  
  
"What?" he snapped, not liking one bit being eyeballed this early in the morning.  
  
Hermione flinched at the tone of his voice, and immediately let it be known she was upset. "You don't have to snap at me, Harry James Potter. It's distressing enough that you've had a headache non-stop for over three months. I think, as your best friend, that I am more than entitled to worry about you!"  
  
Harry immediately regretted lashing out at her the minute the word left his mouth, but before he could apologize, Hermione had already gone off on her rant. "Sorry 'bout that, 'Mione. I don't think that I'm very hungry anymore." Without another word, Harry grunted as he heaved himself into a standing position before leaving the Great Hall to get his books for his first class of the day, Defense against the Dark Arts.  
  
*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~ *~*~*~*  
  
Harry made it to DADA without another second to spare. The school-wide gong that signaled the beginning and end of classes had just sounded when he entered the classroom. He immediately made his way to his seat, between Ron and Hermione, with Professor Bastion eyeballing him the entire way.  
  
"Now that we are ALL here," she shot a meaningful look at Harry (who had the good grace to at least look ashamed), "we can continue with our coverage of Dark creatures. Open your textbooks to page 429, to the chapter entitled 'Veela, Truths and Myths'." The class did so, and once everyone had the appropriate texts out, she began her lecture.  
  
"Veela, by nature, are sexual creatures. Their magical traits include being able to induce attraction to themselves from the opposite sex through empathy, A bird-like form when angered, heightened magical power, and the ability to use fire-based wandless magic." She paused, waiting for the students taking notes to catch up.  
  
"While the only documented Veela have been female, there have to be males as well. It has been proven that Veela cannot reproduce asexually, therefore male Veela must exist in order to have any pureblooded Veela at all. While the females of the species are defined by their striking long blond hair, males are theorized to have black, windswept hair, and a pair of black wings that are always present. Males are thought to not have the ability to take the wings back into themselves as a female would. Both sexes are also defined by having pale skin, striking eyes, height topping out about five foot eight or nine, and a subconscious need to be in the wind and air." She paused again, waiting until the tell-tale sounds of scratching quills stopped before continuing.  
  
"As it would not be beneficial for a Veela-child to attract the opposite sex, their powers generally don't come into maturity until between the ages of fourteen and seventeen."  
  
Hermione raised her hand. "Yes, Ms. Granger?"  
  
"What would the Veela experience during this 'maturation'?" she asked, a curious expression on her face.  
  
"From what little we know about developing Veela, they would be subjected to intense headaches while the empathic centers of the brain awaken, and body pains while the body adjusts to the new magic flows and physiology. Any other questions class?" No one moved. "I want you all to read chapters 26 and 27 on the Veela lifestyles and theories, with a 14-inch parchment on it due by class next Monday. You may use the rest of the class time to study and begin your essay."  
  
As Harry listened to her description of what a 'theoretical' male Veela would look like, his mind began to fantasize about being one himself. When Professor Bastion went into detail on what the maturation would feel like, he actively began to worry that his 'fantasy' may be closer to reality than he originally thought. Staring at his text, but not seeing the words, he became increasingly more worried. He glanced over at Ron, who had already fallen asleep and was drooling onto his outstretched arm. Smiling and shaking his head, he turned to the other side where Hermione was furiously taking notes from the textbook, obviously getting a good start on her essay.  
  
Just as he was pulling out some parchment to begin his own essay, he felt some sharp pains in the muscles in his back, like it was knotting up and releasing over and over. He let out a surprised grunt when it first started, and reached back to try and massage some relief into his painful upper back, squeezing his eyes shut against the pain. It helped surprisingly little.  
  
Harry unclenched his eyes and glanced around to see if anyone was paying attention to him. No one had, at least that is what he thought, when he glanced over at Hermione. She was studying him, not with the look of worry like at breakfast, but with open curiosity. Suddenly, her brows knitted in thought and she went back to her text. Harry closed his eyes tight again, moving the massaging from his shoulders to his temples, trying to quell his pounding headache. He heard a high-pitched squeak after only a minute, and his head snapped to where 'Mione was watching him with wide-eyes. She opened her mouth to speak, but thankfully Harry was saved by the gong signaling the end of class. He hurriedly gathered his book and parchment, and bolted towards the common room, not wanting to have the discussion that his friend wanted him to.  
  
Harry ran into the Gryffindor common room and plopped himself down into an armchair by the fire, trying to simultaneously lessen both his headache and his back pains. He was pulled out of his thoughts by two warm, dainty hands running over his shoulders and gently rubbing. Harry turned his head to the left, looking over his shoulder, to where Lavender Brown was rubbing the aches out of his knotted muscles with a small contented smile upon her face.  
  
"Um, Lavender, not that I don't appreciate it, but what are you doing?" he asked, VERY uncomfortable with the fellow classmate touching him intimately as she was.  
  
"Trying to help you out, Harry. You do look like you are in quite a bit of pain, and massages ARE one of my specialties. Do you want me to stop?"  
  
Harry battled within himself, but finally the need to be pain-free, for at least a bit, overrode any uncomfortable thoughts he might be having. "No, no. Please keep it up. That's starting to feel so much better." Harry reclosed his eyes, and moved his fingertips back to his temples, trying to quell the headache once again.  
  
"Hey Lav, what's going on?" Harry faintly heard, but was too involved in his temple rubbing to pay much attention.  
  
"Hi Patty! Harry doesn't feel good, and I thought I could help him out."  
  
"Harry?" Parvati asked, and when he opened his eyes, she was kneeling in front of the armchair looking into his eyes. "Do you have a headache too?" she asked with a sympathetic look. Harry nodded, not trusting his mouth not to say 'What the hell is going on?'. "Here, let me try."  
  
Parvati's small fingers came up to his temples and began rubbing slowly and gently, occasionally stroking his brow with her thumbs and his cheeks with her palms. She was leaning forward, giving Harry an eyeful down the front of her blouse showing her generous amount of cleavage encased in a lacy white bra. The entire time this was happening, Lavender had not stopped with her massage. Harry closed his eyes to prevent the temptation to ogle the Patil twin, and realized that between the two girls, he WAS beginning to feel better. It was almost perfect...  
  
"HAROLD JAMES POTTER!" Hermione screeched from where she and Ron had entered the common room, upset that Harry had been avoiding her.  
  
Spoke too soon..  
  
Both girls jumped back as though they were caught doing something guilty. Harry's backache and headache came back less than a second later.  
  
"Thanks a lot 'Mione. I was just starting to feel better. Good going." He spat out, before charging up the stairs to fume while lying on his bed.  
  
Less than a minute later, the door to the sixth year boys dorm opened yet again, and the red-haired boy entered, walking right up to his own bed and sitting, which happened to be directly next to Harry's.  
  
"Wow Harry, you are going to have to tell me how you talked the two prettiest Gryffindors into giving you a massage at the same time. That was one of the most unbelievable things I have ever seen!" he spoke with much excitement.  
  
"I didn't DO anything. I was just trying to get rid of my backache and headache, and first Lavender offered to help, then Parvati did less than a minute later. The bad part is that the pains were just beginning to fade when Hermione charged in and scared them away. That brings us to now, where I am currently writhing on my bed in agony."  
  
"Maybe you should go see Madame Pomfrey, Harry," Ron proposed with a worried look on his face.  
  
"Do you have any idea how often I see that woman, Ron? By the end of the year I think that we'll be on a first name basis. No thank you, I'll deal with this on my own."  
  
"You know, Hermione has this crazy idea in her head that you are some sort of Man-Veela." Ron spoke with the most incredulous look on his face.  
  
"That's crazy, Ron. First, there has never been a Male Veela that anyone has ever seen. Second, if I was, then one of my parents would have to have had Veela blood. My mother was muggle-born, so she's out, and my father would have been a documented Male Veela were he to have any Veela in him at all. Right?"  
  
"I guess you're right mate. But you know how Hermione is when she gets one of these ideas in her head. Good luck convincing her otherwise."  
  
Harry, despite the pain he was in, managed a chuckle. "I think I am going to soak in the bathtub before lunch. Hopefully these aches will at least settle down. Can you keep Hermione off my case for a bit?"  
  
"I'll do my best, but no promises, okay?" Ron pleaded.  
  
"That's all I ask" Harry returned.  
  
*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~ *~*~*~*  
  
Harry stepped out of the tub, quickly drying himself off, then wrapping his towel around his waist to journey back to his dorm in search of clothing. The bath had helped a little, the roaring pain having lessened to a dull ache. He stepped out of the bathroom and took two steps towards the dormitory when he heard a voice speaking, also getting closer.  
  
"..n't care, Ron, he needs to talk about this and I am going to make sure he does. Oh! There he is, Harry! Ha..Har... H."  
  
Harry had turned around the instant he recognized the voice, bracing himself for the inevitable conflict with Hermione, but when she caught sight of him with only a towel around his waist, she immediately blushed and began gaping like a fish. She looked like she was embarrassed, but she wouldn't tear her eyes from his chest.  
  
"If you don't mind, 'Mione, I would like to put some clothes on before you hit full lecture mode, if that is okay with you?" Normally, Harry would have been embarrassed beyond recognition being caught as scantily clad as he was by a girl, but for some reason it just didn't seem to bother him at all. He quirked an eyebrow at her, seeing as how he didn't get any recognition that she heard a word that he said. He looked over to Ron, who seemed just as clueless as he felt, then took a step towards her.  
  
"'Mione? Are you okay?" he asked as soon as he was standing only a foot in front of her. Her eyes snapped up to meet his own emerald orbs, and her breath caught in her throat. She slowly reached a hand out to feel his muscular chest, but when she realized what she was about to do, she let out a squeak, turned, and ran down the corridor to the girls dormitory.  
  
"What the hell was that, Ron?" Ron, however, had other things on his mind.  
  
"Harry, have you been working out this summer? You didn't look like that last year at all, mate."  
  
Harry threw up his hands in resignation, before charging back to his dorm to get redressed for lunch.  
  
*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~ *~*~*~*  
  
The Trio's walk back down to the Great Hall was awkward at best. Hermione was looking everywhere but at Harry, Ron seemed really angry about something, and Harry was pissed at both for not listening to anything he had to say. The only thing that could have made Harry's day worse would be running into Malfoy.  
  
"Hey, Potter!"  
  
Speak of the Devil...  
  
"What's amatter Potty? Fighting with your best friends? Awwwww, no one likes little Potty anymore, do they?" Draco drawled out, smirking as though he was the funniest guy in all of England.  
  
Harry rolled his eyes and turned around, as did Ron and Hermione. He saw Draco, but unlike most times, instead of being flanked by Crabbe and Goyle, he had Pansy Parkinson hanging on his arm.  
  
"Well, if it isn't the Mudblood, the Weasel, and the Potty. What's wrong? Thunder in Paradise?" she simpered.  
  
Normally, Harry would have resorted to cruel words and curses, but something inside of him told him differently.  
  
He locked eyes with the girl, and slowly approached, some could say stalked up to her. Her arm dropped from Malfoy's, and her eyes widened a bit while her breathing suddenly became labored. Harry reached up with his right hand, and caressed her cheek with the back of his fingers. In a husky voice, he said "You know, Parkinson, I really don't like it when people call my friends and myself names." Pansy closed her eyes and shuddered. "I think that we could be friends if you would be a little nicer to us, do you think you could do that, Sugar?" Pansy reopened her eyes halfway, and gave a heavy lidded nod, still not closing her mouth. Harry cocked his head to the side, and ran his thumb down her cheek, to her chin, where he removed the physical contact entirely. "Good, I'll see you around Parkinson." He turned to Malfoy, who was red, apoplectic, and at a loss for words, and simply nodded. "Good day, Malfoy." He then walked around the troublesome duo and continued his decent to the Great Hall, his shell- shocked companions joining him after a couple seconds recovery.  
  
He heard their footsteps as they raced to catch up with him, so he stopped, but didn't turn around. "Not a word you two. I solved the problem, and no one got hurt. I'm going to lunch now." He then continued stalking down the corridors to lunch, leaving his companions behind.  
  
*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~ *~*~*~*  
  
As he entered the Great Hall and made his way towards Gryffindor table, he noticed some movement out of the corner of his eye. Lavender and Parvati were waving him over, having saved a seat between the two for him. Harry made his way over to the two women, seeing as though there were no other open seats near them, therefore Ron and Hermione couldn't interrogate him over lunch.  
  
"'Afternoon, Ladies." He greeted them as he settled in. Instead of the giggles that usually accompanied him trying to say something suave, they both blushed and turned away. He glanced across from where he now sat, seeing Ginny unabashedly staring at him with her mouth open and a slightly glazed look in her eyes. He quirked an eyebrow in amusement, to which she also blushed and suddenly found her food very interesting.  
  
"Harry, where are your glasses? I thought that you were blind without them?" came a familiar voice from next to where he was observing Ginny fidget. He turned his head and met the eyes of Katie Bell, the sole remaining chaser from last year. The blond seventh year was leaning over the table, propping her head up on her left hand and giving him a quizzical look.  
  
Harry reached up his hand to feel around his eyes, and sure enough, he had forgotten to put on his glasses after his bath. "I don't know, I guess I just don't need them any more. His brows knitted in confusion, before his left shoulder blade knotted up yet again. "Lavender?" he asked politely.  
  
She blushed again, but still answered. "Yes Harry?"  
  
"My upper left back just knotted up again, and since you did such a wonderful job on it earlier, I was wondering if you could just rub it a little while we eat?"  
  
He didn't hear a reply, but did feel her hand come up to rub over the left side of his back. It had to look fairly intimate, seeing as how Lavender was sitting on his right side. Harry picked up his fork, and was bringing his first bite of food to his mouth, when he felt the knot begin to loosen. He groaned contentedly and set his fork back down onto his plate. After a few moments, he glanced over at Lavender, noticing that she had completely ignored her own lunch in favor of gazing in rapture at him. He proceeded to give the table a cursory sweep, and witnessed every female within eyeshot glaring at her with contempt. Figuring that it would be best to just deal with the pain rather than alienate her from the other girls, he gently thanked her and asked her to stop.  
  
Lavender got a goofy smile on her face when he thanked her, and trailed her hand across his back on the return trip to her own personal space. Turning his attention back to his food and away from his aching self, he began to eat for the second time.  
  
Halfway through the meal, he felt a bare foot sneaking its way up his shin, surprising him. He dropped his fork, making a loud 'clang' on his plate, and his head snapped up to meet Katie's sapphire eyes. One eyebrow raised in challenge, she continued to stroke his leg suggestively. At this point, Harry decided he had had enough. He stood, giving her a lopsided grin that was neither accepting nor denying her unasked question, and announced he was heading back.  
  
On the way back to the dormitory, he heard the telltale signs of someone running to catch up to him, and inwardly he groaned. He began speaking while turning to face the approacher. "Look, 'Mione, I'm still not in the moo-.." He stopped when he noticed that it wasn't Hermione at all, but Ginny.  
  
"Sorry, thought you were someone else, Gin." He flashed her his trademark impish grin.  
  
She simply smiled back at him. "Obviously," she replied teasingly. "I was just wondering if I could walk with you back to the tower?"  
  
Harry shrugged. "After you."  
  
They walked amiably back to the tower, not talking, but Harry kept catching Ginny sneaking glances at him. Far from being annoyed, as he probably should have been, he found it rather amusing.  
  
Warning bells started to go off in the back of his mind as they approached the corridor leading to the tower.  
  
Harry's back felt like it was ablaze, the skin stretching and breaking. He fell to his knees, unable to support himself, and his eyes shut tight against the overwhelming pain. Suddenly, he became very hot and began to sweat. He loosened his tie, then reconsidered and removed it, while hearing Ginny repeatedly ask him if he was all right. Her voice, however, sounded miles away. He shrugged off his robe, then his shirt, now naked from the waist up. The pain actually intensified, and he doubled over resting his head on his knees with his hands pressed into the cold stone tile. He felt a tear down the sides of his spine, just before a light weight distributed itself across his back as the pain ebbed away. He finally opened his eyes, and found Ginny staring at him. No, not at him, but over his shoulder.  
  
Harry turned his head to the side, noting the absence of his headache, and saw the tip of a large, black-feathered wing. Wide-eyed, he turned his head to the other side, seeing the same thing. Instinctively, he stretched them out then ruffling them, not even realizing that he shouldn't know how to move them at all, let alone the complex muscle control involved in stretching out his wings.  
  
Realizing where he was, and that anyone could walk up and see, he quickly gathered his robe and cloaked himself, effectively hiding his new appendages. He hurriedly gathered his clothing under his left arm, grabbed Ginny's hand in his right, and began making his way towards the Headmaster's office.  
  
"Ginny, can I ask you to keep this a secret?" he pleaded, but not stopping his trek across the castle.  
  
"Of course Harry, but what is happening to you?" she asked, slightly in shock.  
  
"I have a theory, but we need to talk to the Headmaster first to confirm it. I need you be with me for this, can I count on you?"  
  
The youngest Weasley blushed, and nodded her acceptance.  
  
*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~ *~*~*~* 


	2. The Need for Control

Okay, ready for round two..  
  
Firstly, I want to give some props to Draco664, who not only is the author of two of the best stories on Fan fiction, (Betrayal of the Best Kind and Midnight duel, Midday love) but also a downright nice person and taught me to use bolds and italics in stories.  
  
Check him/her out, the website won't let me link to it, but find it. It is well worth it. I've also decided to give out some props to a couple in-progress fics that are definitely worthy of a read.  
  
Hogwarts Apprentices: Gentry Green, by lisa roquin  
  
Has slash, but don't be closed-minded about it. The story line is great. Harry gets accepted into a newly-reinstated Apprentiship program, and gets some responsibility along the way.  
  
Harry Potter and the Pride of Gryffindor, by jonny english  
  
Animagus!Harry and ProfessionalQuidditch!Harry Definitely cool.  
  
*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~ *~*~*~*  
  
Harry sped through the corridors, his robe unclasped and showing a generous amount of his bare torso to the school at large. More than twice he had to veer around staring, unblinking girls, who's jaws would literally drop, before they noticed that he had a hold of Ginny's hand, then they would turn to glare at her.  
  
He mentally berated himself for asking her to accompany him the way he did. As he was still fairly angry at Ron and Hermione, she was the next closest friend he had, yet even she was still closer than his surviving blood family, and the fact that she was there when he.. 'matured' made her the optimal choice for moral support.  
  
However, the method he employed made it seem as though he was interested in pursuing her. His instincts, which he was sure now were at least influenced by his heritage, made almost every act he did a seduction if he didn't stop to think about it. Letting her down without losing her friendship would not be an easy task, but alas... one catastrophe at a time.  
  
At last, they approached the Gargoyle guarding the Headmaster's office. Harry paused, not even guessing at a password yet, as he remembered that Professor Dumbledore was still eating his lunch, and probably wouldn't be due back for at least awhile yet. He turned his back to the wall and slid down to a sitting position, burying his face in his hands, willing himself to keep calm.  
  
He heard and felt Ginny's presence slide down the wall next to him, and heard her ask if he was okay.  
  
"Ginny, I just sprouted wings with a collective wingspan of.... oh.... probably near twelve feet. How 'okay' do you think I could possibly be at the moment?"  
  
Ginny's sensitive side chose to insert itself into the conversation at that exact moment. "Why are you jumping down MY throat about it, huh? The only reason I am even here with you is because you pleaded with me to come, even hinting at some fun and games in the future, and now you're being mean to me? What is WRONG WITH YOU!"  
  
Harry grimaced, not quite sure how to respond, before looking around, and finding the tapestry of Barnabas the Barmy waving at him from across the stairwells. 'The Room of Requirement, perfect!' he thought to himself.  
  
"Look, Ginny, I am really sorry about that outburst. But seeing as how we have to wait for Dumbledore to finish his lunch before we can talk to him, why don't we go to the Room of Requirement. I'll explain what my theory is on all of," he made a sweeping gesture down his bare midsection with an open hand, "this."  
  
*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~ *~*~*~*  
  
"So," Ginny began, "let me get this straight. You think you are a Veela, at least partially, correct?"  
  
Harry nodded.  
  
"Never mind the fact that a male Veela is supposedly mythical, again, right?"  
  
Harry nodded a second time.  
  
"And that somehow explains why your emotions are all over the place, why every girl, including me, that lays eyes on you wants to drag you to bed, and why everything you say when you aren't angry comes out in a sordid manner, right?"  
  
Harry stood, shrugging off his cloak, exposing his wings in the process. He brought them up as high as he could, extending only a bit, in effect making them look even bigger than they had before.  
  
"And lets not forget about these," he said, gesturing with one of his thumbs at the enormous black-feathered wings protruding from his shoulder blades.  
  
Ginny still looked disbelieving, but sat down, ready to at least try and listen.  
  
"Look Ginny, as a matter of fact, just today we went over Veela and the 'myths' about the males in Defense. Veela, male or female, are usually described as having expansive mood swings, and the ability to attract any member of the opposite sex. Not to mention that the physical qualities that the males are supposed to have fit me to a T. Black windswept hair, striking eyes, pale skin, height topping out at about 5'8" or 5'9", and lets not forget the HUGE BLOODY BLACK WINGS I JUST GREW IN FRONT OF YOUR VERY OWN BLOODY EYES!"  
  
Suddenly ashamed at his outburst, he collapsed backwards into a couch and buried his face in his hands elbows resting on his knees, valiantly trying to fight off the tears that threatened to fall.  
  
Ginny came and sat right next to him instantly, rubbing the skin between his wings in a hopefully soothing manner.  
  
"You see Ginny?" he spoke from between his palms. "You are over your crush on me, and have been for well over a year and a half. Yet now you blush when I make any eye contact with you, and touch me whenever you get a chance. Does that sound like something you would normally be doing?"  
  
The soothing motions on his back abruptly stopped, and he risked peeking between his fingers only to find Ginny staring at her hand in horror.  
  
Harry placed his hand on her knee to get her attention, but immediately pulled it back when her eyes shot up and made contact with his own, causing her to flush a light pink once again.  
  
"Ginny, you HAVE to fight it. You are one of my best friends, and these feelings you are experiencing are not, by any stretch of the imagination, natural. Until I can learn to control it, if indeed it IS possible, I need you to be strong. Please, Ginny, please, for me."  
  
Ginny closed her eyes and took a few deep breaths. "Okay, I think I can control myself, at the very least if I keep my eyes closed. But for Merlin's sake! Put your robe back on!"  
  
"What does it matter to you? Your eyes are closed." Harry retorted, a smile beginning to reappear on his face.  
  
"Just do it! If I slip up and open my eyes, I want as little temptation as possible, okay?"  
  
Harry chuckled, amazed that he had felt so comfortable literally disrobing in front of her earlier. He did, however, respect her wishes and tucked his wings down before shrugging on the robe, belting it up so that it showed as little skin as possible.  
  
He reached out to clasp her shoulder, getting her attention.  
  
She sucked in a sharp breath before tearing herself away from his touch.  
  
"Don't touch me! If you touch me again, I just might hex all of your clothing off and ravish you right here!"  
  
Harry laughed.  
  
Ginny, with her eyes still closed, smirked and replied teasingly: "And don't laugh either, it would just be better if I can't hear you or see you at all right now, just smelling you is taking every ounce of willpower I have at the moment."  
  
"All right then, why don't you just go ahead back down to the common room. Oh! If you run into Ron and Hermione, would you tell them that I need to speak with them as soon as I get back?"  
  
Ginny nodded, still not opening her eyes, but biting her lip now.  
  
"You are still going to keep this a secret, right?"  
  
Ginny nodded once again, then spoke in a cracking voice. "I need to get away from you right now Harry, I just can't control myself any longer. I'll speak with you later, okay?" Halfway through her sentence, she turned around and began heading towards the exit from the room, closing the door behind her just as she finished.  
  
Harry walked towards the exit himself, but stopped short when he heard her frustrated groan on the other side of the door. When he heard four tell tale 'thumps' of her whacking her head into the door before she ran off, it was all he could do to contain his laughter, trying to spare her feelings.  
  
*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~ *~*~*~*  
  
Harry found himself in front of the gargoyle for the second time in half an hour. 'Nothing to do but start guessing, I suppose,' he thought.  
  
"Acid Pops.. Sugar Quills... Sherbet Lemon?  
  
*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*  
  
Ten minutes later...  
  
Snickers?... um... Kit Kat?...  
  
*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*  
  
Five minutes after that..  
  
Harry, quite tired of the guessing game and very aggravated, held up his right hand, which was now supporting a strange purple ball of fire. "Look you overgrown bookend, either you open up right now, or I am going to melt you down and use your remains to pave a trail into Hogsmeade. Understood?"  
  
The Gargoyle, surprisingly, jumped, not slid, but jumped aside.  
  
Harry stalked up the circular staircase, not even knocking before entering the headmaster's office.  
  
"Sir? I need to speak with yo-.." He trailed off as he noticed that they weren't alone in the room.  
  
Sitting in chairs in front of the headmaster's desk, yet upper bodies contorted so they could look at him, were Professors McGonagall and Snape. Snape looked outraged, even more so than when he usually laid eyes on Harry, but McGonagall looked flustered and seemed to be having trouble forming sentences at the moment, judging by how her mouth was opening and closing yet no sound was coming out.  
  
Harry tried a second time. "Headmaster, I need to speak with you. It's not Voldemort, but it is rather high priority." He glanced at the two professors still staring at him before returning his gaze to Dumbledore and adding; "Alone, please."  
  
The Gryffindor Head-of-House had by this time regained her wits. "Mr. Potter! Where is your clothing?"  
  
Harry glanced down, observing how in his tantrum in front of the gargoyle and the charge up the stairs his cloak had come undone, once again displaying his chiseled torso. He put his hands into his trouser pockets, brushing the sides of his robes back displaying even more pale skin, and cocked his head to the side.  
  
Raising his eyebrow in amusement, he asked, "What seems to be the problem? I haven't had a complaint all day." He smirked at her gobsmacked expression. "It IS related to what I need to speak with the Headmaster about," he finally gave in, having pity on the older woman who seemed to be having no more success in controlling her hormones than Ginny earlier.  
  
"Potter! I think thirty points from Gryffindor for your obscene state of dress should be sufficient, don't you?." Severus Snape actually managed to bark out the sentence while maintaining his smirk.  
  
Harry thought quickly, and decided that this was one of the few times to abuse his new powers before the school staff found out.  
  
He turned a pleading look to McGonagall. "Professor, you can't let him do that! I assure you I had no choice in coming here dressed as I am now!"  
  
McGonagall turned a soft eye on him before glaring at Snape. "I think that Potter is exactly right. One hundred points to Mr. Potter for the courage to come here dressed like that, obviously showing exemplary house traits."  
  
Harry turned a kind smile to the Transfiguration teacher, which actually caused her to blush like the rest of the girls he had come across today. Inwardly, though, he was shocked out of his mind. 'If that is the kind of response I get by turning up the charm, I had better just assert more self- control. No telling what could happen if I charm the wrong woman.'  
  
Albus politely asked the two teachers to leave, so that he could have his chat with Harry alone.  
  
Harry sat, making himself as comfortable in the chair as he could with his wings erecting his posture, when the wizened mage spoke.  
  
"Now then Harry, what did you need to speak with me about?" he asked while holding out the dish containing his lemon candies.  
  
Harry hardly heard the words, but did feel an almost overwhelming need to confide in the man. He wasn't sure, but he thought that now that the empathic centers in his brain had opened, he could just tell that the need wasn't natural. In fact, knowledge of an empathic suggestion to trust the man made Harry not trust him at all. He had to think up a lie, and quick.  
  
Gently turning down the offered sweet, he began to speak. "Um, I was on my way back from lunch, and some girl thought it would be funny to hex off my shirt and tie. I didn't recognize her. Actually, I only saw her out of the corner of my eye. But I thought I would let you know personally, seeing as how I don't really trust any of the other Professors that much. I'm sorry, I should have just went to Professor McGonagal or Flitwick or something..." Harry stood, acting like he was embarrassed for being there in the first place, even though embarrassment didn't really seem like an emotion that he was able to feel any longer.  
  
"Quite alright Harry," he began, "you know that you can come to me with anything. Alas, I do have quite a bit of paperwork to do, so if there is anything else?"  
  
"No Sir, sorry again, Sir."  
  
"Have a good day, Harry."  
  
"You too, Sir."  
  
*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~ *~*~*~*  
  
Harry made it back to the tower in a little under ten minutes, having stopped back at the Room of Requirement to gather his forgotten shirt and tie, tucking them into his cloak pocket. He barely stopped to refasten his cloak on the way down.  
  
He approached the portrait of the Fat Lady, and impulsively testing a theory, winked salaciously at her.  
  
"Do you think you could let me through, just this once, without the password?" he asked in the most seductive tone he could muster, full of hidden promises and delights.  
  
The Fat Lady didn't even blink. "I'm sorry young man, no password, no admittance," she replied somehow kind and stern at the same time.  
  
Harry broke out into a full-blown smile. "What is your name, anyway?"  
  
"Oh dear," the Fat Lady remarked, bringing up a handkerchief to dab at her eyes, "it must be at least seventy years since someone has asked me my name. It's Margeuritte."  
  
Harry grinned. "Well, Margeuritte, my name is Harry. This could just be the beginning of a beautiful friendship." As almost an afterthought, he muttered the password. "Follow the Butterflies."  
  
The portrait swung aside, admitting entrance. "I'll come speak with you another time, Margeuritte."  
  
"Just call me Marge, Harry" He heard as he stepped into the common room. There was a collective gasp when he entered, emanating from all the girls in the room. He glanced down, and noticed that his cloak had come undone once again. Harry gave his trademark lop-sided grin in return to the gasps, and a few girls sighed dreamily.  
  
"Has anyone seen Ron and Hermione?" he asked. No one answered, just stared at him.  
  
He did a quick check over his shoulder, making sure his cloak was still covering his wings ( but to anyone else, he looked as though he were checking whether everyone was staring at him or someone behind him), before looking to his left and down.  
  
A small first year girl with her black hair in pigtails was looking back at him with an expression of a 'deer caught in the headlights'.  
  
Harry got down on one knee to talk to her eye-to-eye, and asked her directly if she had seen Ron, Ginny, or Hermione.  
  
The girl promptly fainted, swaying slightly in a boneless wobble before Harry caught her, saving her from striking the floor.  
  
Not willing to chance another fainting by asking another girl, he gently picked up the child, supporting her shoulders and knees with his arms, her head propped up against his bicep. He quickly spotted Dean and Seamus in the Corner playing yet another hand of Exploding Snap. He walked quickly over to them, clearing his throat to get their attention.  
  
"Hi Harry." Dean said, a questioning look in his eyes about the girl Harry was carrying.  
  
"Sup, Harry." Seamus said, not looking away from the game.  
  
"Hey guys," he began, "have you seen Ron, Ginny, or Hermione lately?"  
  
Seamus was studying his cards intently, so Dean answered him. "Yea, Ginny came in about twenty minutes ago and pulled Ron and 'Mione up to the Sixth year boy dorms, promising pain and punishment to any who enter uninvited."  
  
"Hey, thanks Dean." He shifted the girl's weight in his arms.  
  
"Um, Harry? Why do you have an unconscious firstie in your arms?"  
  
Harry shrugged, making the first year bobble a bit. "She fainted." He set her down next to Seamus, who still wasn't paying any attention. "When she wakes up, could you make sure she's not too disoriented?"  
  
"Sure Harry." Dean replied before mumbling things under his breath to the effect of "lucky I'm such a good friend" and "Babysitting ickle firsties."  
  
Harry charged up the stairs by twos, entering the dorms where his bed lay. Upon entering, he was greeted with the sight of a very impatient looking Hermione, a still-angry Ron, and a bored Ginny with a large red mark in the middle of her forehead.  
  
Harry shut the door, before pulling out his wand and casting every locking spell he knew on the door and silencing spell on the room.  
  
He turned back to the other three in the room. "Have you told them anything yet Gin?"  
  
Gin immediately closed her eyes and shook her head 'no', while beginning to bite her lip again.  
  
Harry looked over to the other two, where 'Mione was gazing in rapture at his still-uncovered chest, and Ron was looking between the two with a mixed expression of disgust and anger.  
  
"Mione.. Mione? MIONE!" Harry finally had to shout, to get her to look up at him and not at his body. "You know that theory you had earlier? About the Man-Veela thing?" She showed no signs of having heard a word he said, just a slightly glazed, hungry look in her eyes.  
  
"Oh for god's sake, Hermione! Just shut your eyes for a bit, okay? Trust me," he said as he pulled his cloak closed around him. Reluctantly, she did as asked, and he repeated his question.  
  
She nodded, her eyebrows shooting up to her hairline.  
  
"Well, I think you were right." Hermione's eyes snapped open again, this time in shock, and Harry took the opportunity to reveal his recent 'developments'.  
  
The cloak hit the floor, and his wings popped back into their full and upright positions. He ruffled them a little, just for show, while the information sank home to his best friends. He looked over at Ginny, whose eyes were still clenched shut and she was murmuring things to herself.  
  
While Hermione was contemplating the new information, (Harry figured that her brain wasn't working as fast as it normally did, being so distracted and all), Harry pulled Ron to the side of the room for a private, whispered conversation.  
  
"Is this why you're angry? Because you think that 'Mione likes me better than you?" Ron looked away but didn't reply, a huge scowl on his face. "Look, Ron, I'm not interested in 'Mione for anything other than a sister. It's just that until I can get a handle on these powers, I'm going to attract any woman or girl who sees me. Trust me, if it weren't for this stupid thing, she wouldn't even give me a second glance. She does really only have eyes for you, and you know it."  
  
At the end of Harry's little impromptu speech, Ron's head snapped up, clearly confused on what the last sentence meant. "Merlin," Harry breathed, horrified at the secret he just let out. "You actually DON'T know it, do you? Ron, listen to me. You can never, ever tell her that I told you, okay? I don't think that I'll survive the thrashing 'Mione will be sure to hand to me if she ever gets wind that I told you."  
  
Ron agreed and nodded, looking four times happier than he had when Harry entered the room.  
  
Finally, Hermione's cortex processed the information and she blurted out, "You have to tell Dumbledore!"  
  
Harry cringed, remembering the empathic suggestions he felt just a little over twenty minutes ago.  
  
"NO, absolutely not, listen to this guys.." And Harry related the tale of the meeting, Ron laughing when he got to the part about McGonagall blushing and giving him a hundred points, and all three outraged and confused as to what Harry felt from the Headmaster.  
  
"Look, I need to trust you guys to keep this a secret between us four, okay?" Ron agreed, Ginny had already agreed, but Hermione took a little.. 'persuasion' to keep from running off to Dumbledore at the first chance she got.  
  
"But then who is going to help you deal with this, Harry?"  
  
"I'm going to write to Fleur and Gabrielle Delacour, being the only Veela whom I know and trust, and see if they can get here for the Hogsmeade trip next weekend. Other than that, my only concerns are how to get a shirt on over these wings."  
  
Hermione's brows knitted in thought, before she got the classic 'Light Bulb' expression on her face. She walked over to his trunk, and pulled out one of his uniform shirts. She cast a spell on it to unwrinkle itself, another to button itself up, and a third to suspend it in mid-air.  
  
She then cast a severing charm and cut out the collar, a good deal of the buttoned front, and the shoulders from the rest of the shirt. Taking the newly 'remodeled' shirt, she rebuttoned it around Harry's neck, put his cloak back on over his shoulders and clasped it, then removed the tie sticking out of his pocket and threaded it through, tying it off as the last step. She took a step back to admire her work, and spoke a single word.  
  
"Perfect."  
  
Harry walked over to the mirror, and noticed that it did look as though he had the entire shirt on under his robes. There was just one problem.  
  
"Mione, while this is undoubtedly brilliant, my cloak has already come undone twice today! What if it comes undone in the middle of a crowded hall or something?"  
  
Hermione rolled her eyes, and cast a sticking charm where the sides of his robe met. She gave him a superior expression and asked, "Are you, or are you not a wizard, Mr. Potter?" Hermione, it seems, can focus better than either Ginny or McGonagall can when she wants to.  
  
Harry had the grace to blush. 'Huh,' he thought to himself. 'I guess I can get embarrassed now can't I?'  
  
"Okay guys, here's the game plan. I'm going to write out the letter to the Delacours, and hopefully spend all of my time outside of classes and meals away from the female population. If you guys could cover for me until after Hogsmeade, I'd really appreciate it."  
  
The girls nodded right away, but Ron added his own stipulation.  
  
"You had better get me a good Christmas present this year, mate," he grinned.  
  
*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~ *~*~*~*  
  
Ooooh, he doesn't want Ginny OR Hermione! MWAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAA *cough* *cough*  
  
NOW who's he gonna get with?  
  
Could it be Ms. Bell? Parvati or Lavender? Fleur or Gabrielle? Pansy? Maybe none of them?  
  
I'll never tell...  
  
At least not yet :) 


	3. Herbology and the Closet Left Behind

I cleaned up the first two chappies, so if things look a bit different, that's why. No major changes, just spelling checks and grammatical rearranging  
  
I am sorry to say that this story will NOT be slash. If you want a Harry/Draco Veela story, there are at least fifty of them floating around at the moment. I'd rather be at least slightly original. As to who Harry winds up with? Who knows? I really haven't decided yet. However, it sure is fun reading what the reviewers think I should do. I am always up for suggestions, so by all means, keep suggesting.  
  
On a side note, I'd like to thank everyone who reviewed. The sheer amount of positive feedback I've gotten has helped me crank out three chapters in three days. Thank you.  
  
And that's all I have to say about that.  
  
ROUND THREE!  
  
*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~ *~*~*~*  
  
Dear Fleur and Gabrielle,  
  
I'm sorry to have to contact you like this out of the blue, but I am in dire need of help and I believe that you two are the only ones that not only I can trust, but offer the level of help I need. The problem is a little to sensitive to send in a letter, but I would appreciate it if you could come to Hogsmeade this weekend, I'll meet you at the Three broomsticks at a time of your choosing, on Saturday.  
  
Please respond, I don't know who else to turn to.  
  
Harry Potter.  
  
Harry then handed the letter to Hermione for a read-through, making sure that he had accurately portrayed the need he had while not giving out any sensitive information, should the letter be intercepted.  
  
Hermione handed the letter back, nodding her approval. "We had better get going guys, otherwise we are going to be late for Herbology," she stated.  
  
Harry and Ron both grabbed their packs, after double-checking to make sure they had the required materials tucked away. When they exited the dorm room, Harry was immediately swamped with female Gryffindors of all years trying to talk to him at the same time. They formed a circle around him, more or less shoving Ron, Ginny, and Hermione out of the way.  
  
One thing you should know if you wish to survive being a Gryffindor, is that if you must piss off a Weasley, try your very best not to aggravate more than one at a time. The flock of women had just managed to rile the two most ill-tempered of the lot.  
  
"EVERYONE SHUT THE HELL UP!" Ron bellowed, and all eyes in the room spun silently to where he was extremely red-faced and heaving with the exertion of breathing, his sister standing next to him in a similar state.  
  
Ginny took a step forward, and the crowd sans Harry subconsciously took a step back. She spoke in a deadly calm voice, which was twice as scary as Ron's outburst. "You will all make way for Harry to get to class." It was a statement, not a question, and she pulled her wand from her robe pocket to punctuate the sentence. "If one of you so much as TRIES to distract him before classes are over for the day, I promise you that you'll live to regret it. I doubt very much that anyone of you could handle myself, my brother, and the smartest witch at Hogwarts alone, could you?"  
  
Following her statement, the collected females began slowly dispersing, looking for something else to do to try and save some face. It seems that Ginny's threat of Harry's friends was potent enough to break through the charm of a Veela.  
  
"Thanks, Gin," Harry breathed out in relief once they were relatively alone again. "I would have been trampled if you and Ron hadn't stepped in." He impulsively reached down and gave her a quick hug in gratitude.  
  
Ginny grunted, actually grunted, and pushed him off. "What did I tell you about touching me?" she whispered exasperatedly.  
  
"Oops, sorry Gin. You know, this is really gonna suck if I can't even touch two of my best friends."  
  
Hermione and Ginny both nodded sadly, before Hermione gestured towards the common room exit with her head, gesturing to them that they leave for class.  
  
"Gin? Will you help protect me during supper tonight?" Harry asked, after seeing how well she handled his 'admirers' just now. He would probably need that help every time he was outside of his dorm room.  
  
Ginny smiled at him, not a lustful smile, but an actual friendly smile. Actually, it was the first friendly smile he had received from a female since his maturation. "Of course, Harry. Just about the entire school knows enough not to piss off one Weasley, let alone two. But you owe me!" she added playfully.  
  
"Of course, of course. I promise you a great Christmas gift this year too, okay?" he added just as Hermione grabbed him by the back of his collar and started dragging him towards their next class.  
  
"C'mon Harry, you were almost late for Defense, we seriously can't be late for Herbology. Let's go!"  
  
"See you at supper, Gin!" Harry hollered walking out the door backward in the tow of his bushy-haired friend. His day was finally beginning to look up.  
  
*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~ *~*~*~*  
  
"Today," Professor Sprout began, "we will be working in groups of eight, seeing as how we only have the four Shrieking Wall Crawlers to work with. Now, can anyone tell me what this particular plant is used for?"  
  
Immediately, to no one's surprise, Neville's and Hermione's hands shot into the air.  
  
"Mr. Longbottom?" the Professor asked.  
  
"It's l-leaves are a key ingr..edient in the um.. Prophlaxis potion and almost e-e-every l-love potion in existence." Neville stuttered, not because he didn't quite know the information, (he most assuredly did,) but because the shy sixth-year just had trouble speaking in front of crowds.  
  
"Very good, Mr. Longbottom. Five points to Gryffindor. Now, separate into your groups, and make sure you have your earmuffs. While not deadly like the cries of a mandrake, the Shrieking Wall Crawler's wails can and will drive you insane after very short exposure. All we are going to be doing today is pruning off the dead leaves and tendrils. Well? What are you waiting for? Get started!"  
  
Harry, Hermione, and Ron made a beeline for Neville. Even the Great-Know- It-All Hermione had to concede that Neville was even better than her at Herbology, and that it would be the best way to assure her continued position at the top of the year.  
  
Unbeknownst to the Trio, however, was that every female in the class, which were all who qualified for NEWT level Herbology between the four houses, were making a beeline for Harry.  
  
Harry sat at the table next to Neville, Hermione and Ron sat across from them, and there was a rush as sixteen girls tried to fill the four vacant seats at the circular table next to Harry and Hermione.  
  
Hermione actually giggled as at least five of them fell to their bums on the dirt floor. When Harry re-opened his eyes, (he had shut them to avoid watching the disaster) he saw that sitting at the table with them were now Padma Patil, Susan Bones, Luna Lovegood, and to everyone's surprise, Pansy Parkinson, the sole Slytherin that qualified for NEWT Herbology and actually took the course.  
  
"Class! Please apply your earmuffs, then count to twenty before pruning. We don't want anyone subjected to the screams."  
  
Harry put on his earmuffs right away, having noticed that three of the four non-Gryffindors at the table were trying to catch his eye. He instead looked at the one who wasn't trying to get his attention, Luna.  
  
Luna had the same dreamy expression on her face, gazing placidly at the vine wrapped around a series of poles in the flowerpot directly in front of her. Harry had to wonder if she was affected at all by him, or if she just hid her emotions deep underneath her placid exterior.  
  
Neville reached up with a gloved hand to grasp a dead leaf, pruning shears in the other, and the others took this as their cue to begin the lesson.  
  
The lesson was going more or less smoothly, Harry paying more attention than he almost ever did in Herbology, when he felt a tap on his shoulder. He looked in the direction of whomever tapped him, to see Padma slide a note over to him.  
  
It read: 'Just so you know, I DO know how to brew the Prophlaxis potion.  
  
P.P.'  
  
Harry looked up to her face, to see her give him a drawn-out wink. He, in return, gave her one of his non-committal grins, and turned his attention back to the plant. When he was sure she wasn't looking, he quickly scribbled out a note to Hermione asking what the Prophlaxis potion was.  
  
Hermione looked up at him and mouthed 'Why?', to which he slid Padma's note over to her. She immediately began laughing into her left hand, while writing a reply to him with her right.  
  
'It's a birth control potion,' was all the return note said.  
  
'Great,' he thought, 'even if they can't talk to me they are still hitting on me.'  
  
Professor Sprout, who had been walking between the four tables, was now approaching their table. Harry breathed a sigh of relief. He knew that the girls wouldn't try any hanky panky as long as she was that close.  
  
Instead of walking to where there was an open spot to observe, the plump Professor placed her left hand on Harry's left shoulder, leaning into him so she could observe over his right, pressing her ample bosom into his wings and back.  
  
Harry tried his best to keep his calm, but when she started looking back and forth, rubbing her.. *ahem* into him, he put his face into his hands. Peeking between his fingers, he spotted Ron watching the display with thinly veiled amusement.  
  
He dropped his hands, and mouthed to his red-haired best friend 'Kill me now.'  
  
He then looked around the table to see if anyone else had noticed her unprofessional display. Hermione and Neville had their full attention focused on the plant. He looked over to Luna, who wasn't looking at anything in particular, just playing with one of the blue feathers she had worn in her hair that day. He then risked a glance at Parkinson, who licked her upper lip slowly and suggestively at him.  
  
Continuing down the Table, he saw Susan, whom he had got to know a bit better in the D.A., and as soon as he made eye-contact with her, she leaned forward, and he noticed that she had undone the top three buttons of her blouse, giving him an eyeful of deep, dark cleavage. Breaking his gaze away from the milky orbs, he then continued on to Padma, who was seated to the left of him, and as soon as she saw him looking at her, she discreetly put her hand on his thigh and started inching her way closer and closer to his crotch.  
  
He grabbed her wrist, gently, to stop her exploration while he closed his eyes and took a few deep breaths to calm himself. He then gave her a playfull 'no' shake of the head and put her hand back into her own lap, hopefully sparing her feelings. However, when he shook his head, he felt the professor's breasts wobble against the rear sides of his head, reminding him that she was still there.  
  
He quickly scratched out a note that asked her to help Parkinson understand what was going on and handed it to the Hufflepuff Head-of-House.  
  
Now that he had rid himself of the older woman, occupying the Slytherin at the same time, he was almost in the clear. Padma had thankfully kept her notes and hands to herself, and Luna was still daydreaming. That just left...  
  
Susan.  
  
Susan had yet to lean back, and Harry couldn't resist but to stare at the crevice between her breasts. The girl was, to put it mildly, well-endowed. The second she caught him looking, she started squeezing her arms together, pushing her breasts up and creating even more cleavage, before letting them back down and starting over again. Harry was entranced, having had little to no female attention before today, but was thankfully pulled out of his tunnel vision by a balled up wad of parchment hitting him in the side of the head.  
  
He looked over to the direction that the paper bludger came from, and found Hermione glaring at him. He mouthed a 'sorry' and a 'thank-you' to her, which seemed to cheer her up a little. Harry refocused his attention back to the plant a few seconds before everyone took his or her earmuffs off.  
  
"Homework for Wednesday, read up on the care and properties of this plant. We are going to be transplanting them into bigger pots that day. Mr. Potter, if I could see you after class please?"  
  
Harry groaned, not wanting to even think about the horrors that awaited him now. "Wait ouside the greenhouse for me, please?" he pleaded to his friends, who after half a minute of making him sweat, agreed that they would.  
  
"Mr. Potter, may I call you Harry?" she began, and Harry warily nodded his acceptance. "I'd like to apologize for my actions earlier. I don't really know what came over me, and I can assure you that it will not happen again." The older woman looked almost ready to cry.  
  
Harry gave her his warmest smile, and replied "It's quite alright, Professor. Weird things have been happening quite a lot around me today. I know that it's not your fault, and I won't hold it against you."  
  
She dabbed at her eyes with a handkerchief. "Thank you Harry, and again, I really am so sorry."  
  
"It's no problem. Was there anything else, Professor?"  
  
"No, just my apology. Go on, I'm sure your friends are waiting for you."  
  
*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~ *~*~*~*  
  
Harry exited the Greenhouse, utterly confused as to how the woman could have been so entranced by him one minute, then in complete control of herself the next. He broke out of his thoughts and found Ron and Hermione looking to him, each trying and failing to contain their laughter. Harry didn't even try to respond.  
  
He just walked past them, and they followed finally able to stop laughing after a few minutes.  
  
"So, what did the PROFESSOR want to talk to you about?" Hermione chided, knowing full well how uncomfortable he must have felt.  
  
"Actually, she wanted to apologize for her behavior, and assure me that it wouldn't happen again."  
  
He actually took three more steps before he noticed that his friends weren't following him any longer.  
  
He turned, and found them both looking confusedly at him.  
  
"That's it? From the way all the girls in there were acting towards you, I would have thought you'd run out of there half-naked trying to keep your 'virtue'!" Ron exclaimed, to which Hermione elbowed him hard in the side. "Well, almost all of the girls."  
  
That statement brought up a question that had been in the back of his mind since they had been at the tower last. "Hermione, why weren't you affected? I mean, you were acting just like you do normally!"  
  
Hermione blushed. "Well, part of it is that I keep telling myself that the feelings aren't real, but most of it is that I... well.. I was kind of thinkingofsomeoneelse," she spat out in too much of a hurry for Ron to catch, but Harry caught all of it.  
  
"So maybe Professor Sprout has a significant other, like a husband or a boyfriend or something.." Harry theorized.  
  
"Or a girlfriend," Ron added helpfully  
  
Harry clapped both of his hands over his eyes. "Thank you, oh great red one, for that splendiferious mental image. I fear I shall never eat again," he over-dramatized. "Are you guys going to come to the Owlry with me, or am I going alone?"  
  
"Um, sorry mate, but I kind of need to talk to Hermione alone, so I guess you are on your own." Hermione looked at Ron quizzically, but nodded anyway.  
  
"All right then, I guess I'll see you guys when I get back, wish me luck in not getting mobbed!" he spoke a lot more jovial than he felt, before they parted ways, Harry to the Owlry, and the other two back to Gryffindor he assumed.  
  
*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~ *~*~*~*  
  
"I need you to take this letter to Fleur Delacour, okay Hedwig?" He quietly asked the snowy white owl perched on his arm. She hooted her understanding, before nuzzling his cheek with the top of her head and flying off out the window, towards France he assumed.  
  
He stood watching until his first friend was out of sight, before turning to leave the Owlry. At least that was the plan.  
  
Blocking the exit from the Owlry were every teenage man's wet dream. Twins. Large-breasted twins.  
  
"Hi Harry" the Patil twins cooed in unison, each walking up to him and taking a hold of an arm. The only way that Harry could tell the two apart, was that Parvati had a Gryffindor crest on her robes, while Padma had a Ravenclaw crest on hers. At the moment, however, robe decorations were the last thing on his mind.  
  
They steered him out of the smelly tower, giggling to each other, towards an empty classroom two doors down before he even had a chance to protest. One of the twins immediately started kissing him full on the mouth while the other locked the door. He tried to talk them out of it, but all that was audible were the mumbling sounds he was making into the Indian girl's mouth.  
  
While Padma, he guessed judging by her perfume, was trying to wrestle his tongue out of his mouth, Parvati pressed her lips to his neck while groping the back of his trousers. It was getting a little too intimate too fast for Harry, he didn't want them to do anything that they'd regret later. Breaking away from the aggressive sisters, he backed away with his hands up, gesturing for them to stop.  
  
The girls, looking quite disheveled and breathing hard, slowly approached him as lionesses would stalk prey.  
  
"Now ladies, you don't want to do anything that you will regret later, do you?"  
  
"What makes you think that we're going to regret it, Harry?" Parvati asked in a husky voice.  
  
Padma, meanwhile, just held up a bottle of a purple potion with yellow streaks in it. "I told you I can brew the Prophlaxis potion," she spoke while grinning ear-to-ear.  
  
Harry's jaw dropped. "Shit..." he managed to gasp out before pulling out his wand and undoing the lock on the door. He sprinted all the way down to the Gryffindor tower, running up to Marge and wheezing the password to her, being out of breath as he was.  
  
Once Marge opened up, he ran up into his dorm room, spotting Hermione sitting on Ron's bed crying, Ron nowhere to be seen.  
  
For the second time that day, Harry put up every silencing and locking charm he knew on his dorm room, before sitting next to 'Mione and putting his arm around her.  
  
"What's wrong 'Mione? Why are you so upset?" he asked as unobtrusively as he could.  
  
"Nevermind me, Harry, why are you all out of breath and sweaty? And WHAT IS THAT ON YOUR NECK!" she screamed.  
  
"Patil twins cornered me in the Owlry. I barely got away, but nothing major. Now what's wrong with you?"  
  
Hermione wiped the tears away angrily before glaring out of the sides of her eyes at a point away from Harry. "Ron.. Ron asked me out to Hogsmeade."  
  
"But that's good, isn't it?" Harry asked, confused as to what was going on.  
  
"I might as well tell you, by this time tomorrow it is going to be all over the school anyway..." she trailed off.  
  
"What?"  
  
"I don't. like Ron that way, Harry."  
  
"And you are worried about that being all over school why?"  
  
She stood up and began to pace, her hands clenched into fists at her sides. "You don't get it. I don't like ANY boys that way... I'm gay, Harry."  
  
To say Harry was shocked would have been an understatement. He was positive that Hermione had feelings for Ron. "How... how long have you known?"  
  
She laughed, a sharp, bitter sounding tone. "I've always known, Harry. Why do you think that my only friends are boys? I've always been afraid of slipping up and coming-onto the other girls, letting my 'secret' out in the process. Some Gryffindor I am," she got out before putting her face back into her hands, the sobs restarting as though they had never left.  
  
Harry gathered her into a hug, and she wrapped her arms around him as a lifeline. "So, when you were thinking of someone else, who were you thinking of?"  
  
She mumbled something incoherent into his chest.  
  
"Sorry?" he pulled back. "What was that?"  
  
"My girlfriend. OH! but you can't tell anyone else, Harry James Potter. She's not out yet either."  
  
"You can trust me, Hermione. I'm not like Ron. As much as I like the guy, he has a tendency to run his mouth when he's angry."  
  
She didn't even crack a smile. 'She must really be mad at Ron,' he thought.  
  
"It's Luna, Harry."  
  
The pieces started to fall into place for Harry now. "So that's why she wasn't even trying to look at me, yet still fought to get at our table. She was there for you, not me, wasn't she?"  
  
Hermione nodded into his chest.  
  
"Look, Hermione, whoever wants to antagonize you has to get through me first. None of the straight girls will be willing to make me angry, the lesbians have no reason to get on your case, and as for the guys, well if being a lesbian makes you partially immune to me, then the gay guys probably won't want to piss me off either. The straight ones, though, I guess I'll just have to remind them that I did duel Voldemort and survived. It'll be okay, 'Mione, I still love you as the sister I never had, and now you can be yourself, your TRUE self."  
  
Hermione cried even harder at how good of a friend Harry was being, somehow managing to tell him that she loved him back through her tears.  
  
*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~ *~*~*~*  
  
HA-HA! No Ron and 'Mione either! Bet you didn't see that one coming!  
  
Stay tuned for the next installment, same bat-ti. wait, I'm not that consistent with updates..  
  
Well, same bat-cha... Whoa, not that either, really.  
  
Anywho, we'll see what kind of madness I can come up with next chapter.  
  
Until next time... 


	4. Guy Talk

Someone reviewed and tried to tell me that Hermione 'can't be gay since she is a girl. She is a Lesbian. Get it straight.' What a loony.  
  
Anyway, another person offered to write more graphically explicit scenes of Harry having *fun*. I won't post them myself, but if he does write some stuff, I will definitely at the very least link to it. That is all the news I have for right now.  
  
*mumbles something about 'can't believe that that stupiddie thought that girls can't be gay'*  
  
On a side note, it has been brought to my attention that it seems unrealistic that Harry has been turning down all of these girls. I think it is entirely realistic. You have to see things from Harry's perspective, not your own. Harry spent his entire life emotionally neglected. He has no idea how to deal with affection past friendliness. Also, he hates being sought after for his scar. What makes you think that this whole Veela thing isn't anything but yet another scar to be gawked at? In my opinion, Harry wants someone to love him for who he is, not what he is or what name he goes by, and this entire heritage thing just upped the difficulty rating by at least 100. Hopefully this chapter will clear up a little of that.  
  
(end of rant)  
  
*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~ *~*~*~*  
  
Hermione calmed down after about ten minutes, where she gently stepped back from Harry and sat on his bed, wiping her eyes with the palms of her hands. She sniffed loudly once, then twice, before clearing her throat and attempting to speak.  
  
"So, now that we have why I'M upset out in the open, tell me what happened with the Patil sisters?" she asked, a half grin playing on her face, contrasting with her bloodshot eyes.  
  
Harry sighed, sitting down next to her, before relating the story about the sisters dragging him to an empty classroom and trying to have their way with him.  
  
Hermione's eyes widened with each passing minute during Harry's recollection, waiting patiently until he finished before speaking. "And you just LEFT! WHY!?! _I_ would have stayed..."  
  
Harry turned to her with a sad expression on his face. "'Mione, as long as we are letting everything out into the open, how much affection do you think I am possibly used to receiving?"  
  
Her left hand shot up to cover her open mouth while her right snaked around his neck, pulling him into a one-armed hug. "I.. I guess I never thought that you might have those kind of problems.. I'm so, so sorry Harry."  
  
Harry felt his right shoulder beginning to dampen with her tears, so he pulled back and looked into her eyes, his own glistening with unshed tears. "Thanks for understanding, 'Mione." He stood and began to pace. "It's not that I don't like the attention, I think part of my 'maturation' made that part if not fun, than at least bearable. It's that I don't really know how to react, and I definitely don't want to just go around sleeping with anyone who happens to cross paths with me." As almost an afterthought, he added, "That just wouldn't be right."  
  
He paused in his pacing to reach behind him and try and scratch around where his wings met his skin, his arms contorted into almost impossible angle, yet still failing miserably. He chuckled, a self-depreciating sound. "You know, two days ago I was worried that the woman I fell in love with would only see the scar, not the person. Now, not only do I have that to deal with, but now I influence feelings without any conscious effort. I think," he swallowed, "that I may just be destined to be alone for the rest of my life."  
  
"Don't you talk like that. Any brother of mine is going to keep his hopes up. At least wait until you talk to Fleur and Gabrielle before you resign the rest of your life to a monastery, okay?"  
  
Harry managed a smile at the fact that she called him her 'brother'. "You always do know the right thing to say when it comes to what matters, 'Mione. But I thought that you didn't like Fleur?"  
  
Hermione blushed and began fidgeting with her skirt from where she sat. "No, I don't really have a problem with her. It's just that I would look at her, and be reminded that I couldn't have her. In fact, if memory serves correctly, her influence is even stronger than yours to me."  
  
Harry grinned, still getting used to the fact that she could share the same interests in significant others as himself, before trying to scratch his back again. "Oh, for Merlin's sake!" he growled out before shrugging his robe and quasi-shirt off. He took great relish in stretching out his wings, arching his back and tilting his head up. He finished his stretch, and looked over to where 'Mione was looking at him with an awe-struck expression on her face.  
  
"'Mione? Everything alright?" he asked her.  
  
Hermione swallowed convulsively before answering. "Harry, you looked like some kind of angel just now. It was just.... beautiful, no other word would do you justice."  
  
Harry laughed, getting more and more comfortable in the various states of undress he often found himself in. "Angel or not, these wings ITCH! You think you could help me out a bit?" he pleaded at her with his best 'puppy dog eyes' expression.  
  
"Oh, you! You don't have to turn those eyes on me to do you a favor!" She stood and walked behind him, where his wings had now returned to their most comfortable resting position, the mid-joint suspended at the very top and the wings themselves hinged out at 45-degree angles.  
  
"If you could just gently scratch around where my wings meet my back, that'd be-. ooooh, that feels good."  
  
Hermione gently raked her nails up and down the inside joints of his wings, taking great care not to over-stimulate the already aggravated skin. Harry hunched forward, groaning in pleasure for a short while the black feathered wings shook with pleasure, before the scratching began to hurt. He turned around and hugged her in a silent thank-you, wrapping his wings as well as his arms around her.  
  
Hermione was feeling content just being held by him. As both were the only child in their families, neither ever had the sibling love that most brothers and sisters take for granted. They parted after a short moment, no feelings of awkwardness apparent, both smiling gently. Harry made his way over to his trunk, where he grabbed one of Dudley's old tank tops.  
  
"Do you think that you could help me into this Hermione? The armholes should be big enough to accommodate both my arms and wings, but I don't think I could get it over them alone. It's just a little cold with only the front of a shirt and that flimsy robe to keep me warm."  
  
Hermione took the article from him wordlessly, and when he stretched his wings behind him, she gently threaded them through the large holes in the extremely baggy tank top. Once it had gotten close enough for him to handle on his own, he folded his wings and threaded his arms and head through, pulling it down around his waist. The top was tight around his chest, having the armholes stretched to accommodate four of his six appendages. The bottom, however, pooled down around his thighs almost like a skirt. Dudley was NOT a small boy. Harry picked up his wand, muttering a few choice incantations under his breath at the errant fabric, shaping it to fit like a glove.  
  
Harry walked over and sat on his bed, ruffling his wings subconsciously to align his feathers. Hermione sat next to him, absent mindedly stroking the back of his left wing while lost in thought.  
  
The sensations that Harry felt from her stroking his wing were unexpected to put it mildly. His breathing quickly became labored and a light sheen of perspiration broke out on his forehead. He shut his eyes, biting back a moan as he felt himself becoming excited. He shuddered and groaned involuntarily and Hermione mistook his current state as one of pain.  
  
"Oh my god, I'm so sorry Harry, I just wasn't thinking, they still must be sensitive. After all, you only grew them this morning. Is there anything I can do?" She spoke so fast that in Harry's current state he barely made out the words.  
  
"Just don't touch them again and for god's sake, if people find out about my wings, tell NO ONE what happens if you stroke them, okay?"  
  
"Did it really hurt that badly Harry?" she asked in a meek voice, hiding most of her face behind her bushy hair and balled up fists.  
  
"Hurt? No, no it.. Well yea, actually it hurt pretty badly. Just please don't touch them without permission again, okay?" He had quickly changed his mind, thinking that A.) It could only create an awkward situation were she to know the truth, and B.) The less people that knew about THIS particular trait, the better.  
  
"I just seem to be making a mess of everything today," she sighed dejectedly, collapsing back onto the bed.  
  
"Don't worry about it, 'Mione, It wasn't really that bad at all. Besides, I think that today is National 'Weird Shit' Day or something," he told her as he lay down next to her, his hands supporting his head while trying to make sure that his wings weren't being crushed. "Why don't we just hang out here until dinner. I'd like to let my wings breathe for a bit, and I'm sure that you're not quite ready to face the rest of the school yet either, are you?"  
  
Hermione covered her face with her hands and groaned. "Oh god, the rest of the school. Can't I just crawl into a corner and die instead?"  
  
Harry chuckled, to which she glared at him. He decided to change the subject. "So, were you enjoying Susan's little display at Herbology as much as I was?"  
  
He looked over to her, only to find her avoiding eye contact with him. "Maybe" she whispered, slightly embarrassed.  
  
"Then why did you throw that paper at me? I could have ogled all I wanted, and since everyone's attention was on me, so could you!"  
  
"No, you forget that my girlfriend was at that table. Add to that the fact that since you and Ron were both staring, I couldn't help but to stare as well, and, well, I just HAD to stop you. Otherwise, someone might have caught me ogling her as well."  
  
"You've got to admit, though, she does have really nice boobs." Harry replied cheekily, trying to get a rise out of her.  
  
"MmmmmHmmmm," was the retort, shocking Harry so much that he fell off of his side of the bed with a 'Thump'.  
  
He sat up, looking at her incredulously, and she grinned unrepentantly back at him. "You have no idea how nice it is not to have to guard what my mouth says anymore."  
  
Harry sobered up, realizing that she had been living a lie for the entire time he had known her, pretending to be something that she wasn't. "Well, lets judge for ourselves if Ron actually did go blabbing to the school at large. For all we know, he might have thought that you just lied to let him down easily."  
  
Hermione closed her eyes, whispering "I hope so."  
  
Harry took her face in his hands, making her open her eyes so that he could look into them, trying to convey the truth about what he was to say with his eyes as much as his words. "No matter what, sister, you don't have to pretend when it's just you and I, okay?"  
  
Her eyes actually teared up again, touched by how far Harry was going to make sure that she knew he still cared for her, and that nothing that mattered had changed. "Thank you," she whispered.  
  
*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~ *~*~*~*  
  
Harry and Hermione exited the dorm room and each took a deep breath, both preparing themselves to hide their secrets from the rest of the school. They entered the common room, which had emptied of people, and made their way down to the Great Hall for supper. As they entered the dining room, Hermione kept looking around for people whispering and sneaking glances at her, but everything seemed normal. Well, as normal as it had been at lunch, anyway. Harry would be the center of attention wherever he even thought of sitting, even getting four separate invites to join the Slytherin table.  
  
Both looked up to find Ron sitting on the end of the Gryffindor table, closest to the teachers, and fuming mad. His face matched the color of his hair, and he looked ready to explode at a moment's warning. So ready, in fact, that no one sat within a five-foot radius of him.  
  
Harry turned to Hermione. "Why don't we go sit with Luna? I really doubt that it would be beneficial to try and speak with Ron at the moment."  
  
Hermione turned to him with wide, scared eyes, and whispered harshly to him; "Are you crazy? If we do that, everyone is going to find out about us!"  
  
Harry touched her shoulder, trying to will some calm into her rigid being. "Relax, everyone knows that Luna is a friend of ours, and so far I've had offers to sit just about anywhere I would please. Besides, I need to apologize to Padma and Parvati about running away from them, and Padma seems like a good place to start."  
  
Hermione's analytical mind processed the information and deemed it worthy of action. They made their way over to the Ravenclaw table, politely asking if they could sit. Padma moved over, an unreadable expression on her face to make room for Harry, and on the other side of the table Luna moved down with the same dreamy expression on her face that always seemed to be there.  
  
'I have to make a mental note to ask 'Mione if she still behaves that way in private,' he thought to himself before turning to Padma. "Padma?" he whispered, trying to keep the conversation as private as possible in a room crowded with boisterous teenagers. She turned to face him, and he could literally feel the hurt in her expression.  
  
"Look, I want to apologize for earlier," he began, tentatively at first but soon the words came rolling out. "I didn't mean to offend you and Parvati, but I panicked. I'm not used to being approached, and I couldn't handle it. I didn't mean any harm, honestly."  
  
Her eyes misted over, and she looked as though she would burst into tears at any moment. "Are we too ugly for you Harry? Am I?" she pleaded, and the full effect of how dangerous Harry's new powers could be settled down as a sick feeling in Harry's stomach.  
  
He took her face in-between his hands, as he did with Hermione earlier, projecting as much honesty as he could with his gaze. "Padma, you are gorgeous. Don't ever let yourself think otherwise. Just give me some time to get used to this. I'll let you know right now that any woman who is going to try and bed me in the first two minutes we are alone is not going to get very far at all. Give me a week or two, and then if you want to try again, try it RIGHT, we'll see what can be done, okay?"  
  
Harry spoke vehemently, yet quiet enough so that no outsiders heard what was said. She nodded, looking much happier than before, yet still ashamed at how forward she was earlier. She turned her attention back to her plate, striking up a conversation with the person sitting on the opposite side of her as Harry, and so Harry turned his attention across the table to where Luna and Hermione were having an animated conversation on some abstract charms theory. Harry was lost after five seconds of listening.  
  
Supper seemed to drag on and on, and Harry desperately regretted asking 'Mione to sit at the Ravenclaw table. While speaking with Padma was very, very important to him, she said not another word to him throughout the meal, not even looking at him. Luna and Hermione were so involved in each other, he doubted that they even remembered that he was there. The rest of the table, well, the girls were staring suggestively at him, which he was slowly becoming used to, however the boys seemed to notice this, and were not very happy with him about it.  
  
He spotted Parvati rise and begin walking back to the common room, alone, her body posture dejected. He politely made his excuses and rose, following her out.  
  
Once he was sure that they were out of hearing range of anyone from the Hall, he quietly got her attention. He reached out and gently touched her shoulder, causing her to yelp in surprise and fright.  
  
Well, at least the TRIED to quietly get her attention.  
  
After he had calmed her down, which involved many soothing gestures and profuse apologizing, he managed to convince her to let him explain why he had run off from her and her sister earlier.  
  
He led her into a nearby classroom, then locked and silenced the door.  
  
"Look, Parvati, I've already had this talk with your sister, so I'll make this as clear as possible, seeing as how I don't want a repeat of THAT particular conversation."  
  
"I haven't ever been paid much attention to by women until recently. When you and she cornered me in the classroom, I panicked, having no frame of reference for what was happening, and therefore ran. Yes, you are a very attractive person, and yes, given a little more experience, I probably wouldn't have run. This has absolutely nothing to do with how I feel about you personally, it is just something that I have to deal with. Give me a week or two, and we'll see how things shape up, okay?"  
  
"Is this some kind of let down, Harry? You don't think that I am good enough for you?"  
  
Harry, exhausted, aching, and emotionally drained, had by this point had enough. "Look, if you don't believe me, go ask Hermione. She knows me better than almost anyone alive, and will confirm everything I've just told you. I've just about bloody had it with everyone thinking that they are somehow not good enough for something or another. Good night, Parvati. I hope you feel differently tomorrow."  
  
Turning without a backward glance, he stalked the rest of the way back to his tower and his bed, his cloak billowing out behind him in an angry swirl.  
  
Harry dragged his tired body to bed, vowing to eat an early breakfast, skip lunch, and have a late dinner in the kitchens long after everyone was in their respective common rooms from now on. Avoiding large crowds were he would face the wrath of pissed-off boyfriends just became his top priority.  
  
He walked into the dorms, seeing all of his year mates sitting on their beds talking. The instant Ron saw him, however, he stopped talking, swung his legs onto his bed, and closed his curtains, effectively shutting himself off from the rest of the room.  
  
An uncomfortable silence descended in the room, with Harry staring at Ron's bed from his place in the open doorway, and Neville, Seamus, and Dean nervously looking at each other. Harry shook his head, pulled his wand from his cloak pocket, and muttered a silencing charm directed at Ron's curtains, effectively preventing him from overhearing anything that was said.  
  
Harry shut the door, casting the same silencing charm on the room, before posing a question. "Do any of you know why Ron is pissed at me THIS week?" He asked with no malice, only resignation, and perhaps it was no fear of retribution that made his fellow Gryffindors answer him.  
  
"We honestly don't know, Harry," Dean finally volunteered. "Usually when Ron gets angry about something, he is extremely vocal about it. All we know is that he had a private talk with Hermione up here, then left in a rage less than five minutes later. Then you came up, locked the door, and spent hours up here with her before supper." Here Seamus picked up the story. "After Ron left though, he didn't say a word to anyone about it. He was actually acting normally until you walked in. Sorry Harry, can't help you out this time, mate."  
  
"Just bloody perfect" he growled, picking up the undertone that said Harry had stolen 'Mione from Ron. He uncharmed the room, then Ron's bed, before falling into his own, fully clothed, not willing to expose his wings in front of the uninformed. He tossed and turned, having trouble catching the sandman with his wings uncomfortably mashed against his torso.  
  
Two hours later, he finally drifted off to sleep, the last thought on his mind being: 'I hate Mondays'.  
  
*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~ *~*~*~*  
  
Harry awoke, early in the morning, to an unfamiliar weight resting on his right pec, his right arm uncomfortably numb, and a second weight resting on his upper right thigh.  
  
He groggily opened his eyes, to find an unfamiliar mass of blonde hair tickling his nostrils.  
  
He closed his eyes and set his head back down on the pillow, bringing up his free hand to rub the sleep out of his eyes before the information finally processed.  
  
He sat upright rigidly, unending the woman curled up on his side. He looked down to the semi-familiar face of a seventh-year, one whom he had seen in passing but never actually talked to.  
  
"What," he growled, "the fuck are you doing in my bed?" 


	5. The Mystery Girl

Okay, first things first, apologies are in order.  
  
When I wrote the last chapter, I had been awake for like, 36 hours. I was a bit snappy, and unable to deal with criticism at the time. I hope to rectify that now.  
  
Firstly, to sweet-single, I'm sorry. Really, really sorry. Um... 'loony'... um... is a, uh, term of, uh, endearment. Yeah! Endearment! My whole reasoning for the 'gay' thing, (I got a LOT of response on that, btw), is that to me, at least, 'gay' is 'not straight or bi'. I'm born and raised in North Dakota, so as you can imagine I'm a little out of the loop.  
  
Secondly, a public apology to VampstoryHunter (I've already given him a private one.) I didn't mean to imply that he would be writing scenes I left out. Only that he would use the premise of my story to create his own (I think..) No plagiarizing at all. (Thank god for spell-check on THAT word.)  
  
A third apology is in order, for I didn't keep my schedule of updates. My phone got shut off because my lazy ass didn't pay the bills. Dial-up connection, you do the math. Sorry.  
  
Okay, to clear a couple of things up on Harry's character.  
  
I've had lots of feedback saying that Harry wouldn't have run from the twins, but I do think otherwise.  
  
I think, that deep down, Harry is chivalrous at heart. He wants to fall in love before sex, but also doesn't want to hurt anyone's feelings. His lack of inter-personal relations almost his entire life has made his tact in such situations even worse than my own.  
  
On another note, some people think that the words 'Shit' and 'Fuck' are not something that Harry should ever be saying, being British and all. My reasoning behind it was that sometimes 'bloody' just isn't a strong enough word. So when Harry is really exasperated, he is going to use something stronger. In future chapters, if he does use an American swear word, you'll be able to tell that he is out of his mind angry or extremely put out of his element. That is what the words signified, at least for me.  
  
*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~ *~*~*~*  
  
Harry awoke, early in the morning, to an unfamiliar weight resting on his right pec, his right arm uncomfortably numb, and a second weight resting on his upper right thigh.  
  
He groggily opened his eyes, to find an unfamiliar mass of blonde hair tickling his nostrils.  
  
He closed his eyes and set his head back down on the pillow, bringing up his free hand to rub the sleep out of his eyes before the information finally processed.  
  
He sat upright rigidly, unending the woman curled up on his side. He looked down to the semi-familiar face of a seventh-year, one whom he had seen in passing but had never actually talked to.  
  
"What," he growled, "the fuck are you doing in my bed?"  
  
The girl, having just been woken up rather rudely, only stared at him and blinked for what could only have been five to ten seconds, but felt like minutes to the irate Veela.  
  
She finally remembered where she was, and grinned sheepishly, yet unrepentant at the same time.  
  
"I was lonely and cold, all alone in my own bed." She offered by way of explanation.  
  
Harry got off the bed, and kneeled beside the girl whom was sitting on the floor next to his bed where she had ended up. "What's your name, anyway?"  
  
"Casey," she answered, her grin somehow becoming even wider.  
  
"Well, Casey, as enjoyable as it was to have a warm body next to me last night," he lied, trying not to cause a scene that would wake his dorm mates, "if I wake up next to you or anyone else for that matter in my bed uninvited again, I'm not going to be very happy, okay?"  
  
The girl's grin vanished and she looked downwards, clearly upset. Harry reached down and touched underneath her chin with the knuckle of his index finger, bringing her gaze back up to him. "Look, I'm sorry I was upset when I woke. I'm not now. Please don't be sad," he pleaded, not wanting to calm down anyone this early in the morning.  
  
He glanced around, seeing how dark the grounds outside of the windows were. "Do you know what time it is, Casey?"  
  
The girl sniffed rather quietly, and lifted the underside of her wrist into view. "Just a little after five, why?"  
  
Knowing that he had two hours until breakfast began, and that he needed to have a talk with this girl or else rumors would be all over the castle by lunchtime, his mind came up with a drastic plan.  
  
"Would you like to come with me to get something to eat from the kitchens? I'm rather hungry, and the Hall won't be open for another two hours."  
  
The seventh year witch nodded, a small smile reappearing back onto his face, but still wary of the seeker's wrath.  
  
Harry stood, offering his hand to her before they made their way out of the room. Harry had to clamp his hand over her mouth when she started to giggle at Neville's snoring, not wanting anyone to wake. If McGonagall ever got wind of this, he was sure that HE would be the one to take the blame, not her.  
  
*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~ *~*~*~*  
  
Thankfully, they had made the trip down to the kitchens without interference from Filch. Having both slept in their respective uniforms, it took very little time to get to the portrait of the ticklish pair.  
  
"HARRY POTTER SIR!" came a shrieking streak of green that slammed into Harry's midsection. A swift turn to the side at the last second was all that saved Harry from being a soprano the rest of the day.  
  
"Dobby, Dobby, Dobby," Harry said, trying to get the overexcited elf to pay attention. Do you think you could get us a little something for breakfast?"  
  
"Of course, Harry Potter sir," he made to leave and gather food, but whipped directly around to face them again almost instantly. "Harry Potter sir shouldn't be outside of his room this early! Harry Potter sir will get himself in much, much trouble!"  
  
Harry rolled his eyes, and turned an amused grin to where Casey was watching the entire scene with wide surprised eyes. "It's okay, Dobby. We won't get caught. Do you think you could whip up some steak and eggs for us?"  
  
Dobby gave them a quizzical sidelong look as he turned to fetch the food. "If Harry Potter sir is sure," he left the sentence unfinished, leaving.  
  
Harry sat down at the small, two-seat table on the side of the room. He folded (not crossed) his left leg over his right, smoothing down his robe as he did so, giving him an almost regal appearance. He gestured with an open hand to the empty seat across from him, telling the girl simply to "sit."  
  
She did so after less than a moment of hesitation.  
  
"So," Harry began, "just what, may I ask, possessed you to sneak into bed with me?" raising an eyebrow at her, not really interrogating her, but just curious.  
  
The girl ducked her head to the side, breaking the eye-contact. "I just... I guess I needed to be close to you."  
  
Harry unfolded his legs and leaned over the table, once again making the girl meet his eyes. "Don't you find that a little strange? I mean, up until this morning, we had never even spoken. For that matter, I didn't even know your name. What could have happened to make you NEED to sleep with me?" he lied smoothly, trying to instill some doubt into her actions without revealing his secret. "I mean, before today, had you ever even had any thoughts of that kind around me?" he asked, completely knowing the answer.  
  
To his surprise, however, she nodded. "Yeah, I guess I have ever since Katie pointed you out as the new seeker second year. I don't know exactly what made me actually do something so rash about it last night, though."  
  
By the time she was done speaking, Harry's eyebrows had shot into his hairline. "You mean that you've been secretly pining after me for, oh, six years now?"  
  
She blushed a shade worthy of a Weasley, once again adverting her eyes and nodding.  
  
He opened his mouth to ask another question, when three house-elves appeared, Dobby curiously not amongst them, bearing breakfast. Harry gently took the plates and goblets from them, thanking them openly and honestly, which made the three servants fight back tears as they fled away.  
  
Harry picked up his goblet, leaning back into his chair, and took a sip while waiting for the woman to regain her composure. Once her blush had returned to a minimal level, he reopened the questioning.  
  
"So who all knows about this? I mean how you feel?" he asked.  
  
She mumbled something that Harry, even with his newly enhanced senses, didn't quite catch. After asking her to repeat herself, she finally mustered the courage that the house was renown for by looking him directly in the eye, and stating; "Just about every Gryffindor but you, Harry."  
  
Harry adopted a look of concentration on his face, dipping his head to stare into his goblet while swirling the pumpkin juice within. Not looking up, he asked "Do you think someone made you sneak in last night without you knowing? I mean, I'm sure that there are charms or potions or something that decreases your inhibitions, right?"  
  
He didn't hear a reply, so he looked up to find the blonde girl glaring at a point on the wall, away from her. "I'm going to kill her," she stated with deadly calm. "Katie Bell is going to die."  
  
Harry quickly set his goblet down and took both of her hands in his. "Can I tell you a secret? If you promise to keep it?" he asked, using his newly discovered 'honest' look.  
  
She adverted her eyes from the wall, to meet his own, and agreed.  
  
"Okay"  
  
"Katie actually hit on me yesterday at lunch. If she was trying to get with me, I really don't think that she would make you do what you did."  
  
Casey's angry look quickly changed to one of shock, then outrage, before finally settling into fear.  
  
"But if she didn't, then who did?" she asked.  
  
Harry stroked the backs of her hands, which were still in his, with his thumbs, trying to calm her down. "Look, I wouldn't worry about it. This whole thing wasn't malicious in nature, I think someone was just trying to help you out. I mean, it IS your last year, right?"  
  
She nodded, her eyes fixed on their intertwined hands. Harry took that as a signal to retract them. He leaned back, cutting into his eggs with a fork. "And now that everything is in the open, you can be assured that there will be no more misunderstandings between us, right?"  
  
She nodded again, still staring at her hands.  
  
He put the bite of food in his mouth, chewing thoughtfully, before swallowing and speaking again.  
  
Just as he was opening his mouth to speak again though, Casey posed her own question.  
  
"Do you want to go to Hogsmeade with me this weekend?" she asked coyly, yet still showing more courage than the entire time she had been pining over him.  
  
"Did you know that I dated Cho Chang last year?" he casually asked, this time cutting into his steak. She made agreeing noises around the food she had just placed into her own mouth, but he could tell that she was uncomfortable with the subject.  
  
"Well, we didn't know each other at all before we started seeing each other, and it became an unmitigated disaster. I'm not saying that I am or am not interested in dating you, Casey. Before we can address that issue, however, we need to become friends. Does that sound reasonable to you?"  
  
She nodded, dejectedly.  
  
"Hey," he said, "that isn't a no. I'm sure that we can meet up for a couple of butterbeers or something later on that evening. I'll probably be with my friends, of course, and you are welcome to invite anyone whom you wish."  
  
"Why later in the evening? Why don't we get together for lunch?" she asked, obviously wanting to spend more time with him.  
  
"Because I have a very important meeting with some out of country friends earlier that day, and I honestly don't know how long that it is going to take." He answered almost honestly, since he did need that time open, but hadn't heard back from Fleur and Gabrielle yet.  
  
After everything was cleared up, they spent the rest of their breakfast over friendly chatter, getting to know each other a bit better.  
  
*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~ *~*~*~*  
  
Six-thirty rolled itself around, and Harry and Casey had been talking for half an hour after finishing their breakfasts. He had discovered that the girl was a muggle-born, and therefore hadn't been raised with fairy-tale like stories about the 'Boy-Who-Lived'. Furthermore, while he was renown as a sort of celebrity, she had feelings for him based on his appearance, ('You have the greenest eyes I have EVER seen'), and his quiddich ability, ('I have a thing for jocks, what can I say?' She said unrepentantly).  
  
They also talked about the future, and Casey admitted to wanting to go into a private charm development career. It turns out that Casey was in the top five of her year in Charms class, and quite often shared theoretical discussions on charms with Professor Flitwick.  
  
"You have got to talk to Hermione Granger,' Harry had replied, "she would absolutely love to talk with you about those kind of things. Merlin knows that I can't follow a conversation about magical theory to save my skin."  
  
"So what do you want to do after you graduate, Mr. Potter?" she asked.  
  
"Live." Harry showed no resignation with his answer, only sheer determination. "I'd like to live after graduation. Anything else is just a bonus."  
  
Casey looked shocked. "I know that you-know-who is after you, but surely you must have more plans than that!"  
  
Harry locked gazes with her, preparing to be brutally honest. "Voldemort- oh for gods sake, just say his name!, anyway, Voldemort and his minions have tried to kill me at least once every year since I was eleven. Keep in mind, that that number is only the ones I know about, who knows how many failed attempts have happened that I haven't even noticed. If I can die of old age, then I'll be happy throughout my life even if I work as a janitor or a garbage man."  
  
The chime sounded for seven o'clock, signaling the opening of the Great Hall for the morning meal, and the two Gryffindors left to head back to their tower and get ready for the day.  
  
*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~ *~*~*~*  
  
Harry waited for Casey to enter, before manually swinging the portrait closed, leaving himself still outside the room.  
  
"Hello, Marge, how are you this morning?"  
  
"Ah!, Harry dear! I'm just fine, how are you?"  
  
He gave a non-committal shrug. "I've woken under more pleasant circumstances, but the rest of the day is shaping up to be okay so far."  
  
"I sure hope so, Harry. Doesn't your year have potions first thing this morning?"  
  
Harry inwardly cursed, but some of it must have escaped his mouth, for the Fat Lady's mouth was twitching upwards into a smile. "Indeed, Mr. Potter, indeed."  
  
"Look, I've got to get ready for class and such, but before I go, can I ask a favor?"  
  
"Perhaps,..." she replied, suspiciously.  
  
"Would it be okay if I called you Maggie instead of Marge? I have an aunt, well, kind of an aunt, named Marge who isn't all that kind, and I'd rather you not share the same nickname as her, if you don't mind too much."  
  
"Maggie," the Fat Lady sounded out, as if testing it for flavor. "Maggie.. I think I like it. Well, I still need the password, Harry."  
  
"Follow the Butterflies"  
  
*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~ *~*~*~*  
  
Harry walked through the open portrait, to run smack into Hermione, trying to get down to breakfast herself.  
  
"Oooof!" she gasped out, before falling back onto her bum, and looking up to glare at Harry.  
  
"Where have you been! You know that you aren't allowed outside the tower before seven!"  
  
Harry grabbed the upper parts of her arms, effortlessly lifting her up and planting her on her feet with his newly developed strength. "Long story, I'll tell you later. Do you think that I could use the prefect's bathroom to shower? I'd rather not have to explain, well 'you know', to everyone, especially THIS morning."  
  
Mione's gaze softened. "Sure, Harry. The password is 'Beneficiary', but do try to get down and have some breakfast with me?"  
  
Harry was about to tell her that he already ate, but seeing as how she was one of two people who were in complete understanding of his predicament and still on speaking terms, and the only one of the two not falling into artificial love with him, he felt obligated to spend time with her before class.  
  
"Sure, 'Mione. I should be down in about forty, forty five minutes."  
  
"See you then, brother."  
  
*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~ *~*~*~*  
  
Harry stepped into the expansive prefect's bathroom, and turned on the shower after dropping his clean change of clothes and his toiletries nearby. He began to disrobe, pulling off his robe, then his trousers and socks, before pausing as he stared down at Dudley's old tank top. 'How am I going to get this off?' he asked himself, before his surrogate sister's voice sounded in his head.  
  
'Are you, or are you not a wizard, Mr. Potter?'  
  
He ruffled through his discarded robe, pulling out his wand, before casting three separate enlargement charms on the tank, allowing him to shrug it off.  
  
Just as he was about to pull down his boxers, the door opened and a familiar voice spoke to him that he did NOT want to hear.  
  
"Harry, only prefects are allow- WHAT ARE YOU DOING WITH WINGS!?!?!?!" came the voice of the Head Girl, Cho Chang, whom also happened to be Harry's ex- girlfriend.  
  
Harry sighed and pointed his wand at the door, casting a spell to shut it gently before locking it.  
  
He turned back to where Cho was staring at him, obviously surprised by his new physique and appendages.  
  
"Harry, you look.. Um... " she stopped and shook her head, as if to rid her mind of thoughts. Still not opening her eyes, she finished her sentence. "Like a Veela.."  
  
Harry chuckled, having already thought of a cover story should something like this happen. "Yea, well you can blame the Weasley twins. They sent me a candy, and I stupidly ate it. As far as I can tell, It makes the eater grow wings coupled with an infatuation spell."  
  
Cho nodded. "That makes sense. Everyone knows that male Veela are mythical anyway, right?"  
  
Harry nodded back, even though she couldn't see him.  
  
She reopened her eyes, and reached out a hand to stroke his left bicep gently. "And these? Did the Weasleys augment your muscles too?" She had been leaning steadily closer and closer to him, until their faces were an inch apart. Harry rested a hand on her shoulder, deciding to try and make the best of a bad situation.  
  
"Um, no, that's really me. Uh, as you can see, showering in the dorm showers until next week is not going to be a good idea, so do you think you could let it slide until the Wheeze wears off?"  
  
Cho looked deep into his eyes, and nodded ever so slightly, before tilting her head and leaning in to try and kiss him.  
  
Harry turned his head to the side, closing his eyes, and spoke softly to her. "Cho, we tried. It didn't work. What you are feeling is the infatuation charm that the Weasleys cursed me with. Just concentrate, and think of Corner or whoever you like other than me, and you'll be okay, alright?"  
  
He looked over at her to find her petite hand covering her open mouth, her eyes wide in shock. "I'm so sorry, Harry. I'll.. I'll just go then, shall I?"  
  
She walked towards the door, and Harry called after her.  
  
"Cho! Can I ask you to please keep this a secret? The last thing I need is for someone like Malfoy to get wind of me getting pranked."  
  
She shook her head up and down, neither looking back nor breaking her stride. She uncharmed the door, and left, closing it behind her just as quickly as she opened it.  
  
*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~ *~*~*~*  
  
Harry sat down at the Gryffindor table next to Hermione and Ginny, not seeing any sight of Ron yet this morning. He filled his goblet with pumpkin juice, and sipped it slowly, trying not to draw any attention to himself. Much to his relief, the attention wasn't as bad as yesterday, yet he could still feel stares on his back. Thankfully, no one had approached him this morning so far.  
  
Minutes after he sat down, someone sat down to his left, and he looked up to find Casey smiling at him, only a little more than friendly.  
  
"Um, guys, this is Casey. Casey, this is Hermione and Ginny, two of my very best friends."  
  
Polite hellos were exchanged, with puzzled expressions on 'Mione and Gin's faces when Casey wasn't looking. Harry mouthed to them 'I'll tell you later', and the subject was dropped for the moment.  
  
The meal was spent in relative silence, between Ginny's 'I'm still waking up' attitude, 'Mione's face buried in yet another book, Casey attacking her meal with gusto, and Harry contemplating all that had already happened today.  
  
He looked over to Casey, and was about to ask her how she could be hungry again, when he realized that she had had maybe two bites of her first breakfast, if even that.  
  
Around eight, Harry remembered that he had left his potions texts and equipment in his dorm room, and rose to gather it. On his way out of the Hall, he once again felt the Headmaster's 'Trust-me' vibes, and he felt sick to his stomach.  
  
"Harry, I need to see you in my office at 9:00 this morning."  
  
Harry groaned inwardly as he turned to face the bearded wizard.  
  
"I can't, sir, I have potions class at 9"  
  
"I'm sure that Professor Snape won't mind you missing a little of his class."  
  
"Only if you tell him so, which I hope you do for his sake. I've been... volitile lately, and I really don't think that you are going to want to find a new potions teacher halfway through the term." It could have been taken as a joke, but Harry's tone, posture, and expression spoke volumes about the sincerity of his words.  
  
Dumbledore's infernal twinkling diminished to almost nothing. "I'll see you at nine, Harry, don't be late." 


	6. Hard Truths

Um.. Not to sound naïve, but just what exactly IS a Mary Sue? I feel like back in fifth grade when everyone knew what '69' meant but me... ah well, I suppose it isn't that important, but I'd like to know just the same.  
  
Don't have much of a rant, except that sweet single still hasn't accepted my apology.. Major. Heartfelt. Sigh.  
  
*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~ *~*~*~*  
  
Harry was NOT in a good mood. He is also Veela, and the two make a dangerous mix.  
  
After gathering all of his school supplies, he begrudgingly made his way to Dumbledore's office. Upon reaching the statue guarding it, Harry realized that Dumbledore had once again 'forgotten' to tell him the password. He didn't even bother guessing this time.  
  
Harry let out a low, animalistic growl at the gargoyle, to which it must have decided was close enough to the actual password to let him through. With far more dignity reserved than compared to the last time, the Gargoyle slid aside to make way for the black-haired teen.  
  
Harry walked in, took his customary seat in front of the Headmaster's desk, and waited for him to say something.  
  
"Harry, I was paid a visit by Dobby at about Five thirty this morning. He said, and I quote, 'Harry Potter Sir is in the kitchens with a girl, sir, and I don't want Harry Potter Sir to get into any trouble'. Would you like to explain your actions, or shall I just inform Professor McGonagall?" Dumbledore was obviously not too impressed with Harry's reluctance to this meeting, and his calcatrant attitude was not helping the matter at all.  
  
"Allow me to answer a question with a question, Professor. I'll tell you everything you want to know, the unbiased truth, if you'll do the same for me. Deal?"  
  
Albus mulled it over in his head a bit, before agreeing by way of nodding.  
  
"I'm serious about this, Albus." The headmaster gave him a stern glare, warning him not to call him by his first name, words unneccessary. "If I found out that you lied to me about anything said here, I'll not be happy. As of yesterday morning, an unhappy Harry equals an unhealthy 'everyone in the vicinity'. A nod of the head is NOT acceptable."  
  
Harry perhaps may have been a little harsh, but those irritating 'trust-me' vibes combined with the knowledge of having to deal with Snape directly afterwards has him, shall we say, a little edgy.  
  
Dumbledore straightened up in his chair, obviously comprehending the seriousness of the situation. This was the crossroads, where whatever was bothering Harry would be the deciding factor to whether or not he would continue to support the Headmaster. Up until now, Harry had always believed Albus's decisions regarding him were honorable, but were he to choose to do so, Harry could just up and leave everything, perhaps dooming the wizarding world to the wrath of Voldemort.  
  
"Would a magical contract be concrete enough?" he asked, as professional as he would be were he dealing with the idiot Fudge.  
  
"Agreed," Harry stated boldly, knowing that breach of magical contract brought severe repercussions upon the trespasser.  
  
The contract was written up, and both signed with their names, a drop of blood, and a magical signature. Completely and utterly binding.  
  
"Okay," Harry began after the contract was duplicated, one given to each of the participants. He stood, and began to pace. "Do you mind if I ask my question first?"  
  
The headmaster calmly made a sweeping gesture away from his chest with both hands, palm up, before re-steepling them in front of him, propping his elbows up on the desk, an open look on his face.  
  
Harry took that as a yes. "What I want to know, is why are you giving off empathic suggestions to trust you? Now that I can feel them, it makes me really want to just leave and never speak to you again. I mean, why would anyone who is ACTUALLY trustworthy need to empathically make people trust in them?"  
  
The headmaster sighed, actually sighed. He reached into a drawer in his desk, and Harry was bracing himself for some kind of weapon of the Harry- destroying sort. What he pulled out, however, was nothing more than a book.  
  
He flipped through it, somehow casually and quickly at the same time. He finally found the page he was looking for, and so he set it on his desk, turned it around so that Harry could read it, and pushed it towards the boy. "I was wondering how long it would be before one of my students actually found out." He chuckled to himself. "I did make it through over eighty years at this school before it happened. Congratulations, Harry. You are the first."  
  
Harry looked down onto the page, which showed a wizened mage with a long white beard, holding a staff and electricity crackling around him.  
  
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ ~~~ 'Quezacotyl'  
  
The Quezacotyl are elemental beings of lightning, of which little is known about. They are known to take on human form, and when they do so, appear similar to the illustration above. Their control over the element is based loosely around emotions, the extent of which is also unknown. Rumored to be mischief-makers by nature, they will often play mind games with humans just for the thrill of it.  
  
For more information on elemental beings, reference 'Elemental Creatures Of The Physical Plane', by Ira O. Te-buk.  
  
Harry sat back down in the chair heavily, quite flabbergasted. "So, you are one of these lightning beings?"  
  
The headmaster shook his head, a wry smile on his face. "Not exactly. One of my distant ancestors was one, and by my generation, the blood has thinned to an almost undetectable degree. Let me ask you a few questions, Harry. Have you ever heard of anyone living to one hundred fifty seven natually? Or have you ever met anyone besides myself whose eyes 'twinkle' when amused? Those things, coupled with my mischievous nature, my... 'Trust-me' suggestions and a few other things are all qualities shown by my heritage. I honestly have no control over the empathic suggestions, and I have strived my entire life not to use it to an unfair advantage."  
  
"But then why didn't Fudge believe you when you told him Voldemort was back?" Harry asked, not really that angry anymore, but now openly curious.  
  
"From what I understand about my gifts, my influence won't affect someone who doesn't trust their own instincts. Minister Fudge, and a few others I have met over the course of my life fall into that category."  
  
Harry nodded silently, letting this new revelation sink in.  
  
Dumbledore, however, took this as his opportunity for 'his turn'.  
  
"So, if I may ask now, why were you in the kitchens with a girl at five- thirty this morning?"  
  
Harry groaned and stood, beginning his pacing once again. "The girl, Casey, snuck into my room in the middle of the night to sleep next to me. I woke up early, and brought her down not only because I was hungry, but because I wanted to know what the hell was going on!"  
  
"And what was her explanation for it?"  
  
Harry shook his head, not looking up from the carpet nor stopping his pacing. "It really doesn't matter, I know why she did it."  
  
"And that would be?"  
  
Harry slumped over in resignation, before turning a wary eye to the headmaster. "What I am about to show you is for your eyes only, sir. Can I trust you, I mean REALLY trust you to keep this a secret? Even from the Order?"  
  
Albus nodded gravely. "I will keep your secret, as you will keep mine. We are equally bound by the contract, Harry."  
  
Harry closed his eyes, stopping his pacing, and turned to face the headmaster. He reopened his eyes with a determined glint apparent. He pulled his wand from his robe pocket, casting a powerful locking charm on the door, before placing blinding and deafening spells on each and every portrait, occupied or not, in the office.  
  
He turned to face the headmaster once again, a moment of doubt flickering over his schooled features in a fraction of a second, yet the headmaster still caught it.  
  
"Well, Harry?"  
  
Harry shucked off his robe in a dramatic fashion, pulling his shirt piece and tie over his head before the garment had settled onto the floor. He then spread his wings, making him look imposing and intimidating, yet even the headmaster, whom is as straight as they come, had to concede that he had an aesthetic beauty that could not be denied.  
  
The headmaster was not expecting this at all. "You are Veela, Harry?" he asked, his eyebrows crested just underneath his tall pointed hat.  
  
Harry let his wings relax, and his head bowed involuntarily. "I believe so, sir."  
  
Dumbledore stroked his beard, contemplating the turn of events. "This explains some things I had been wondering about last year. Do sit, Harry. We have much to discuss, I believe."  
  
Harry retook his seat, leaning forward so his wings could rest in their natural position without being smashed into the back of the chair.  
  
"Last year, you were uncharacteristically moody, culminating with the partial destruction of my office, do you remember?"  
  
Harry chuckled, but there was no mirth behind it. "How could I forget?"  
  
Dumbledore plowed right on, unperturbed. "At the time, I judged your reasoning behind it as teenage angst coupled with the stress of your predicament."  
  
"Predicament meaning being targeted for death almost since birth?" Harry queried with sarcasm, his emotions once again getting to his mouth before his brain did.  
  
Yes, well, I didn't think you needed to be reminded yet again of that. Anyway, I should have seen it as a sign of a developing Veela. Have you taken any steps to get help with this yet?"  
  
"I wrote to Fleur and Gabrielle Delacour yesterday almost immediately after I matured. I'm still waiting for a reply, but I was planning on meeting with them at Hogsmeade this weekend."  
  
The mage nodded, saying "That is the exact first step I would have taken, in your situation. However, you will need to be accompanied by a few members of the order during your visit. We can't be too careful after the events of last year."  
  
Harry didn't like it, but did see the wisdom in it. "Very well, but I am meeting with the Delacours alone. They can wait outside the room if they wish, but I'm not about to let more people know about this than I have to."  
  
Albus conceded the point, knowing that he had kept his own part-human status a secret from as many as he could as well. "Well, I can't imagine that your morning routine has been easy lately, given your new, ahem, appearance, has it?"  
  
Harry shook his head. "I had to beg Hermione to let me use the prefects bathroom, and then Cho walked in on me when I was wearing only my boxers." He shrugged. "It's not that part that bothers me, although perhaps it should. It's the fact that she saw my wings, and I had to tell her it was a Weasley twins prank to keep my secret."  
  
He stroked his beard thoughtfully. "Here is what I propose, Harry. Firstly, I will find out if Ms. Chang has told anyone about it, then memory charm her and anyone she told. Keeping your secret away from Voldemort is top priority, and the memory charms, while regrettable, ARE necessary. Can you think of anyone else that needs to be charmed?"  
  
Harry began to shake his head, but spoke when a thought came to him. "Um, Professor Sprout hit on me during Herbology yesterday. She apologized profusely afterwards, and I know that she couldn't help it, but I can't imagine that the memory of the incident is sitting very well with her. I mean, it's not like I can just walk up to her and say 'Sorry about all that, but it was really my fault. You see, I'm a Veela, and that's why you were trying to seduce me'."  
  
Albus readily agreed, for he had always liked the kind-hearted professor, and he knew that the incident must be eating away at her from the inside out.  
  
"I'm afraid that we must arrange new sleeping and bathing quarters for you though. I believe I can persuade the castle to add on a private bedroom and bathroom for you, and it should be completed by nightfall. Are there any... special requirements you need?"  
  
Harry thought for a moment, before answering in the affirmative. "The charm that keeps boys from entering the girl's dormitory, can that be modified to only allow in people that I choose?"  
  
"I'll speak with Filius about it over lunch. Now, if there is nothing else, I believe you have a little over half of Potions class left. You should run along, and we'll speak again after your meeting with the Delacours."  
  
Harry made no outward sign that he had heard, but reached for his discarded clothing and reapplied it, effectively hiding his wings once again. He picked up his school bag, slung it over his shoulder, and made for the door. Just as he reached for the handle, the professor's voice stopped him in his tracks.  
  
"Your secret, contract or not, IS safe with me Harry. I hope that you can learn to place your trust in me once again, as I place mine in you."  
  
He nodded, not turning around, and opened the door, breaking the charm that kept it locked to the outside in the process, making his way down to the dungeons for class.  
  
*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~ *~*~*~*  
  
Harry walked into potions, and directly to his seat next to Hermione. Sitting down, he glanced over at what page the class was working on and opened his textbook to the appropriate number.  
  
"Well, well, well, if it isn't our resident celebrity," drawled the voice of the potions teacher. "I guess we can't expect the 'famous' Harry Potter to abide by the rules as everyone else must. Fifteen points from Gryffindor for your lack of respect to the rules, Potter."  
  
Harry looked up from his textbook to glare at Snape directly in the eye. "I had a meeting with the Headmaster, and I was told he informed you of it before hand, sir."  
  
Snape's smirk stretched even wider, and his right eyebrow rose. "Ten more points for your cheek, Potter. Do you have more to say?"  
  
Harry stood, fuming, trying vainly to keep his hands from igniting into flame. Hermione reached up with a hand to try and pull him back down to a sitting position, but when her hand touched his shoulder, he turned his gaze down on her.  
  
Small purple flames were licking around the edges of his irises, and a series of inner explosions could be felt by gazing into his emerald orbs alone. She quickly withdrew her hand, and turned her attention back to her text, not willing to draw the wrath of the irate Veela onto herself.  
  
He stepped around the desk, and walked directly up to the Professor. Two days ago, Snape had towered over him, but with the changes brought on by Harry's maturity, he now barely had to tilt his head to keep eye contact with the six foot four man.  
  
He whispered, so that no one else could hear. "Your office, right now Snape. We need to have a little chat."  
  
He then turned and stalked into the adjoining room, his robes billowing slightly behind him, a telltale signal to any who knew Harry that he was above and beyond angry.  
  
The professor walked into the room behind him eagerly, for he had been waiting for Potter to overstep his boundaries from the first day he laid eyes on him.  
  
Harry stalked to the center of the office, Snape directly behind him. As soon as he reached a point where he was sure the other man was in the room, he whirled around, and threw a small purple fireball at the door, slamming it shut.  
  
Severus's eyes nearly popped out of his head, and he looked upon the man- child. Purple flames originating at his hands, but travelling up to his elbows were flaring brightly from where the teen had his hands clenched into fists at his sides. Purple fire was also completely enveloping his eyes, giving off the effect that it was deep within his skull that the flame originated, and the eyes were the only outlet for them to show themselves.  
  
He spoke, in a deadly calm voice. "The headmaster DID tell you I would be late, yet still you choose to belittle me at every chance that you get. It ends now, Snape. So help you god, it ends now."  
  
"You're just like your father, always thinking that you are better than everyone else. Someone has to deflate that oversized head of yours, and since everyone else is too busy kissing your ass to do it, I will gladly accept THAT particular responsibility."  
  
"I AM NOT MY FATHER! You'd do well to learn that, Snivillus. You are nothing but a petty, childish man, and I am not going to take it anymore." The fire that had before only reached his elbows, now reached up to his shoulders, and the flames from his eyes were burning out to the sides, almost reaching his ears.  
  
"Well then Potter, It seems we have come to an impasse. It just so happens that there is nothing you can do about it. One hundred points from Gryffindor and detention this weekend, and every weekend after that until you graduate for insubordination."  
  
Harry stepped to within an inch of Snape's face, the purple fire in his eyes singing the older man's eyebrows. He grasped his tie, and pulled the teacher closer so that their noses were touching.  
  
"You're wrong, Snape. There IS something I can do about it. I'm going to beat you to within an inch of your life, then memory charm you, and hopefully I won't have to deal with you again for the rest of the year."  
  
Snape swallowed convulsively. It wasn't like him to be intimidated by a mere student, which he was, so he tried his best to seem in control. "Is that a threat, Potter?"  
  
"No, Snape, that is a promise." Harry smiled a wicked, evil smile.  
  
One handed, the threw the professor to the side of the room by his necktie, into a shelving apparatus holding many potions ingredients. The instant he let go of the tie, the purple flames engulfed a large amount of his tie, shirt, and cloak.  
  
Bleeding from the temple, Snape stumbled towards the door while simultaneously patting away the fire on his clothing. Distracted as he was, he didn't notice that the fireball Harry had closed the door with had engulfed the entire interior of the door until he was almost grasping the handle. It would have seared the flesh from hands were he to have completed the movement.  
  
He turned around wide eyed, to see the entire interior of his office alight in purple flame, and the demon, as he was sure, stalking towards him, purple fire encasing his entire frame and large, black wings protruding from his back, heralding the coming of pain incarnate.  
  
*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~ *~*~*~*  
  
Hermione had been patiently making her potion, but worrying about what was taking Harry so long in the office. Malfoy's taunts of Harry finally getting expelled were not making matters any better. Just as she was contemplating how much trouble she could possibly get into by interrupting their 'chat', the door to the office opened, and Harry walked out, much calmer than he had been when he went in, levitating a badly bruised, bloody, and charred Professor Snape behind him on a stretcher.  
  
Immediately the Slytherin side of the room stood, and made to rush him to avenge their fallen father figure, but it only took a glare from Harry to stop them all, each and every one, in their tracks. "You don't want to do that," was all he said to them, and they looked at each other, fearful, trying to see for themselves if anyone of them was brave enough to actually confront the imposing Gryffindor.  
  
He dismissed them as any threat almost immediately, and turned to Hermione. "'Mione, as you are undoubtedly the smartest of us lot, and the only prefect in the room, you are in charge for the rest of the class." He turned to the rest of the class. "Does anyone have a problem with that?" Everyone, even Malfoy (who interestingly had become even more pale than usual), wisely kept their mouths shut.  
  
Harry didn't acknowledge the class at all, for it was a rhetorical question. He swept out of the dungeons, towards the hospital wing, the unconscious head of Slytherin house in tow.  
  
*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~ *~*~*~*  
  
He arrived at the Hospital Wing, only to have Madame Pomfrey make him rush the fallen Professor to the nearest cot.  
  
"What happened here?" she asked him exasperatedly, fearing that he had been the one to do it.  
  
"The Professor and I were having a private, heated discussion, and I had my wand in my hand. What I think happened, was that my wand shot some sparks, and that started a fire in his office. He tried to fight it, but was overtaken. I barely got the fire extinguished myself, before I hurried him up here."  
  
She looked at him quizzically, not wanting to believe the tale when her own version that she had created was so much simpler.  
  
Harry sensed that she didn't quite believe him, so he looked her deep in the eyes, putting on his 'puppy-dog' look, and willing her to be attracted to him. "You DO believe me, don't you?"  
  
Her gaze softened, her eyes wandering down the center of the open cloak he had transfigured from a melted potions vial before he left the office, his own being destroyed by the fire. Her eyes rested on his abdomen, the muscles defined there as one would see in a bodybuilding contest, and she nodded her head.  
  
"Of course I do, Harry. May I call you Harry?"  
  
He tucked a stray wisp of hair behind the attractive older woman's ear. "Only if I can call you Poppy."  
  
The seasoned mediwitch giggled like a schoolgirl, and as much as Harry was enjoying using his powers of seduction on the older woman, he did concede that she needed to be tending to Snivillous. "I must inform the Headmaster, Poppy. Please do what you an for Sni..., er, Professor Snape."  
  
Poppy shook her head clear, remembering what she was paid to do, and ushered him gently out of the wing, using the palms of her hands on his buttocks to push him. Harry really didn't mind that much.  
  
*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~* ~*~*~*~*  
  
On the walk to the headmaster's office, for the third time in two days, he ran the events of the last hour over in his head. He took his time, pacing at a leisurely stroll, not only fearing the conversation with the headmaster, but also wanting to figure out just when he stopped being Harry and started being The Veela.  
  
The old Harry never, EVER, would have used his powers like he just did with Poppy, even if there wasn't a critically injured man in need of her attention. He acted selfishly, which was something he almost never did, and the short delay he caused may have cost Snape dearly. Not only that, but he actually ENJOYED seducing the older woman. It gave him a thrill, and if his morals had slipped just a bit more, he would no longer be a virgin, Snape's health be damned. When he stopped to think about it, only yesterday he had run away from twins, TWINS, who tried to bed him, and now here he was, seducing a woman thirty years his senior.  
  
It wasn't just his motives that had seemed out of place, either. Transfiguration wasn't Harry's best subject, and he would be the first to admit it. Yet, he just picked up the melted vial, held his wand at it, and pictured his cloak in his mind. It was all so clear, and the easiest piece of magic Harry had ever done, yet it should have been the hardest.  
  
Oh yes, did he have a LOT of questions for Fleur and Gabrielle on Saturday.  
  
Stopping just outside the Gargoyle, again, he decided to test a theory. He held out his wand, pictured his modified shirt front, and just let the magic flow. From thin air the shirt-tie combination appeared, at first misty and smoke-like, but soon gaining solidity. He had even modified it so that instead of having to unbutton and then re-button the front after he had placed it on his neck, it now had a clasp in the back of the collar to just slip on and off. He put it on, charmed the front of his robe shut, and asked the Gargoyle to 'Please move aside, this is an emergency."  
  
*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~ *~*~*~*  
  
Harry walked into the office yet again, and Dumbledore looked up from his paperwork with a quizzical expression.  
  
"Harry? Shouldn't you be in Potions right about now?" he asked, disappointed that Harry had ditched his lesson.  
  
"Do you remember you telling me this morning to make sure that Snape knew about our meeting, and that it would be dangerous for him to be pushing my buttons?"  
  
"That's Professor Snape, Harry, and yes, I did make sure he knew. Why do you bring that up?" he asked, fearing the answer.  
  
"You're wrong. It's just Snape now, he won't be fit to teach for the rest of the year, at the VERY least. He's in the Hospital wing, and Poppy is tending to him as we speak. He intentionally angered a Veela and in doing so, should thank his lucky stars that he is even still breathing."  
  
Dumbledore hunched back into his chair, rubbing his temples with his hands. He looked back up to Harry, a disappointed, yet understanding look on his face. "I know that you are still trying to control your new powers, Harry, but I an extremely disappointed in you. You intentionally injured a man, a man vital to your survival whether you like it or not. I hope, for your sake, that he makes a speedy recovery."  
  
Harry turned to walk out, mumbling "I wouldn't count on it" under his breath.  
  
*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~ *~*~*~*  
  
He made his way to Gryffindor tower, and only Katie Bell and a few other seventh years were present, Casey not amongst them. He made his way over to his teammate, and asked if he could speak to her in private.  
  
She agreed, blushing, to which Harry rolled his eyes.  
  
He led her over to a pair of comfortable armchairs in the corner of the room, a place where 'Mione frequently studied. "Listen, I'm in dire need of a shower, so I'll make this quick. I was approached by this 'Casey' girl from your year, and I've never even talked to her before. What can you tell me about her?"  
  
Katie looked at him shocked. "Casey, about yea tall," she held up her hand just a little over her head, "Blonde hair, blue eyes, Casey?"  
  
Harry nodded. "That's the one."  
  
"And she actually spoke to you voluntarily?"  
  
He nodded again.  
  
"I wonder what she has up her sleeve..." she trailed off, and Harry wanted to know the end of that sentence.  
  
"What do you mean by that?" he asked, truly and utterly confused.  
  
"Well, I don't know if I should be telling you this," to which Harry responded with 'the look', "well, alright. That girl has never had a kind word to say about you, Harry. EVER. I have no idea what would make her approach you, but I wouldn't be too open with her. I'd say that I trust her as far as I can throw her, but the fact of the matter is that if I tried, I could probably heave her about fourteen feet."  
  
Harry would have laughed, if he weren't so conflicted. "She told me that she has had a crush on me ever since my first year...." he trailed off this time, and Katie looked shocked.  
  
"I can't belie.., why would sh... Oh god, I'll bet someone jinxed her into doing it as revenge or something, and she is gonna blame me. Why oh WHY do I always find myself in these situations?"  
  
Harry managed a chuckle, leaning back into his armchair. "If I had a nickel for every time I asked myself that..." to which she replied, "Um, Harry? What's a nickel?"  
  
Harry shook his head, taking in a deep breath and henceforth inadvertently reminding himself that he needed a shower. "I really, really need that shower, Katie. I guess I'll see you at lunch, okay?"  
  
"K, bye Harry."  
  
He got up, and made his way over to the prefect's private bath, looking forward to de-stinkify-ing himself after the nasty fire he had been a party to earlier.  
  
*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~ *~*~*~*  
  
Harry sat down, at the Gryffindor lunch table this day, with all of the Slytherins, even the females, giving him death glares and gestures of retribution. He shook his head, feeling guilty about his actions earlier, when he noticed a seventh year boy sitting next to him that he had never talked to either. 'Man, you really need to start meeting your housemates,' a voice in the back of his mind said to him.  
  
"Um, excuse me," he began, turning to the boy. "I know that we've never talked before, but I need to ask you a question or two, if that's okay with you?"  
  
The boy shrugged, making the curly brown hair on his head bob a bit. "Sure, I don't see why not."  
  
"Um, well, first of all, what is your name?"  
  
"Kyle," he said, "Kyle Habbencroft."  
  
"Well, Kyle, this is about that Casey girl in your year. I've heard that she doesn't really like me, others are telling me that I should ask her out. I was kind of hoping to get some insight into her, and figure out who is lying to me."  
  
Kyle's eyebrows rose of their own accord, and he asked with a puzzled expression, "You mean no one ever told you?"  
  
Harry's own brows, however, furrowed in frustration. "Told me what?"  
  
He put his hand on Harry's shoulder, and Harry looked him in the eye. The boy didn't flinch or blush, which probably meant that he is straight by Harry's reasoning, and therefore has less of a chance of an ulterior motive for what he was about to tell him.  
  
"Casey, the stupid girl, is probably the only Gryffindor that DOESN'T like you. In fact, the only words I ever remember hearing out of her mouth are things like 'Potter always needs to be the center of attention,' and 'If Potter loses us one more house point, I'm going to string him up by his balls.'"  
  
Harry flinched at the last quote, to which Kyle chuckled. "So she really doesn't like me then, does she."  
  
"Harry," he said. "Although I could be mistaken, I'm pretty sure that I've never even heard her refer to you by your first name. I think that that in itself is enough to tell me that she doesn't like you."  
  
Harry nodded, a constricting feeling in his chest, and stared at his empty plate. "You know, I don't think that I am that hungry anymore. It was nice meeting you Kyle, I'll talk to you again sometime."  
  
He rose and quickly headed back to the tower, not wanting to be around anyone at the moment.  
  
*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~ *~*~*~*  
  
He had been lying on his bed in the boy's dorm staring at the underside of the canopy for the last hour, probably for the last time if Dumbledore held up his end of the bargain, contemplating what to do about Casey. He really did have an enjoyable breakfast with her, and she seemed like someone who could like him for him, not for his fame.  
  
'I should have known better,' he told himself bitterly, wiping away the wetness that had gathered in his eyes. He was so far into his depression, that he didn't hear the approaching footsteps, or the caring voice that was calling his name as she approached. Only when she gently grabbed his shoulder did he turn around to see the concerned face of his bushy-haired best friend.  
  
"Hey Harry, what's wrong? Is this about Snape? Because you really can't hold yourself accountable for what happened, he pushed you, and what you did in retaliation, whatever it was, is normal for Veela. Dumbledore told everyone at lunch that a fire had started during your meeting, and he was badly hurt trying to contain it. I certainly don't think any less of you, though I should for making me put up with all of those Slytherins for an hour."  
  
Harry managed a small smile, before his face turned serious again. "That girl at breakfast, Casey? Did you know that she hates me?" he asked, knowing that he could trust her above all others.  
  
Hermione, to his horror, nodded sadly. "That's why Ginny and I were so confused when she sat next to you and you introduced her to us in a friendly way. What happened?"  
  
So Harry proceeded to tell her about the entire bullshit story she had told him, probably just to get him into the sack. By the end of it, Harry was crying openly into her shoulder, his entire body racking with his sobs.  
  
Hermione stroked the back of his head, knowing that rubbing his back would probably mean rubbing his wings and she didn't want to hurt him anymore than she already had, and quietly asked why he was so upset.  
  
"I thought I had finally found someone who could like me for being Harry, Not the Boy-Who-Lived. She fed me this entire story about always liking me, and here I find out that she lied to me just to try and get me into bed." He stood up, wiping his tears onto his sleeves. "Well that's it. I know at least one girl who has agreed to go on a date with me before all of this.. this. Shit, and I'll be damned if I'm going to pass her up again."  
  
He made his way to the door, but didn't make it out of the room before Hermione turned him back around. "Are you sure you want to do that right away, Harry? I mean, you've been crying for like an hour, and your eyes have... why aren't your eyes puffy, Harry?"  
  
Harry shrugged, an impish grin on his face. "I'm Veela, Hermione, I'm not allowed to look bad."  
  
He left the boys dorm, swerved around an angry Ron who obviously wanted to interrogate him, and saw just the person he was looking for.  
  
He grabbed Parvati by the hand, pulled her out the armchair where she was chatting with Lavender, and whispered in her ear "Lets go get your sister. I was wrong about the other night, and I plan on making it up to both of you-" he moved his face back in front of her, catching her eyes with a short sultry look while moving to her other ear. "making it up to you like you can't possibly imagine." He brushed his lips just underneath her earlobe, and she shivered uncontrollably.  
  
Parvati pushed him back and held him at arm's length looking back and forth between his eyes, checking him for honesty. Whatever she saw obviously pleased her, because she gave a short hop and squealed like a little girl before snatching up his hand in hers and leading the way towards the Ravenclaw dorm rooms.  
  
*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~ *~*~*~*  
  
I'll bet you are all wondering why I even introduced Casey, only to write her out again. Basically I needed Harry to realize that he needs to take what he can get, and I didn't want to use a canon character for that.  
  
Let me know what you think!  
  
(This chapter is three pages longer than the others. I'm getting better!) 


	7. magical ease

I know I haven't updated in like.... ever. I'm sorry. I only really write when I feel like it, otherwise it isn't fun, and I have also been into Diablo II lately. If anyone is familiar with the game, I just got an Annhilus Charm tonight. Isn't that so f'n cool! Alright, here we go.  
  
I like Dragons  
  
Oh! Pop quiz, I'd like to know what gender people think I am. I think its interesting to hear guesses.  
  
*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~ *~*~*~*  
  
Parvati was more or less dragging Harry towards the Ravenclaw common room, and when they finally arrived, she gave another exited squeal and hugged him tight. Turning around, she knocked on the statue of Merlin's knee three times, said she needed to speak to Padma, and turned around with an anxious look in her eyes.  
  
"So what made you change your mind, Harry? I thought you said you needed a week or two?" she asked.  
  
Harry smiled down on her, slightly shocked at how much he towered over her from his magical growth spurt. Although he only shot up perhaps four inches, up to 5'9" or so, the diminutive Indian girl was only 5"6", and he was now taller than her. "The last couple of days have been weirder than you could possibly imagine. But I remembered a couple of years ago, you agreed to go to the Yule Ball with me, and even after I had been a total and utter ass to you, you still were friendly to me. That sounds like someone who I could see myself with, and if your sister is anything like you, and you are both okay with this..., then the more the merrier."  
  
The statue they were standing in front of seemed to turn to a liquid state, before spiraling out into a liquid stone ring, the center of which being the entrance/exit to the Ravenclaw commons. Padma, looking very good to Harry, stepped out before the statue assumed its normal form.  
  
She had been looking back at the room, then down her blouse to make sure that she hadn't any lint or the like on her, so when she finally looked up and saw not only her twin sister, but Harry as well, she sputtered in shock for a moment.  
  
Harry, however, wasn't really paying attention. "The things you Ravenclaws do...." he whispered under his breath, still amazed even after all this time at the ingenuity that can be applied into magic.  
  
"Harry," he heard, and looked down to see Padma looking up at him from her sister's side. "What is going on? Why are you here with Patty?"  
  
"Is there somewhere we can go to talk?" He responded, clearly not wanting to have what promised to be a long, drawn-out talk in the middle of the hall in a very crowded school.  
  
*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~ *~*~*~*  
  
Ten minutes later, they found themselves in the Room of Requirement, chatting to each other over cups of tea, when a window shimmered into existence overlooking their table. They stopped, not really registering what happened, when the window opened and an exhausted looking Hedwig flew through, landing roughly on Harry's shoulder after ricocheting off of the side of Padma's head.  
  
She extended her leg, with a letter attached, and wobbled precariously in the process. Harry quickly removed the letter, before slipping it into his robe pocket and taking his first friend into his arms. Her eyes half closed, she gave a half-hearted hoot and fell asleep.  
  
Harry looked up at the faces of the girls, and was puzzled when they looked worried. "What's the matter with you two?" he asked.  
  
"Is she all right, Harry?" Patty whispered, seemingly afraid to speak louder.  
  
"She's fine, just exhausted. She's damn proud of herself, though. Can't you tell?"  
  
The girls looked at him blankly. "What do you mean, can't you tell?" Padma finally asked, pulling a white feather out of her hair and looking at it with a bewildered disgust.  
  
"You know, how wizards and witches can tell how their owl is feeling, and their emotions and such. Oh, I guess it is MY owl, how would you be able to tell?" he half told them, half muttered to himself.  
  
"Harry, are you feeling okay? I've never heard of anyone being able to understand their familiars, do you need to get some sleep or something?"  
  
"Well, yea, I guess I must. I have to bring Hedwig to the owlry, she's exhausted. I'll see you two at supper?" he asked standing up. They told him they would, and that being said, they made their way in three separate directions.  
  
*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~ *~*~*~*  
  
Harry gently put the snowy owl on a perch, gave her a soft touch to the side of her head, whispering a 'good night' to her. He looked around the owlry, noting that he could just tell how the other owls were feeling. Some were exhausted, like Hedwig, others were anxious to go do something, _anything_, having not been able to deliver in so long. Yet others were bitter, brooding in the corners. He had never thought it an unnatural thing, just that it was a normal part of being magical. Perhaps there were more things that he had taken for granted that other wizards couldn't do......  
  
Harry felt somehow, accepted here, without any of the preconceived notions that the student body had for him, one way or another. Harry crouched down for a split second, before leaping strait up to balance perfectly on one of the long perches that ran across the room, the floor being at least ten feet below him now. He sat back on his haunches, lowering his center of balance, and a few owls came to perch beside him, for no other reason than to just be there.  
  
Pulling the letter out of his pocket, he turned it over in his hand reading the simple yet elegant dark purple handwriting on the outside of the scroll. Unrolling it, he saw that it was a short letter from Fleur.  
  
Dear Harry,  
  
I will meet you, Saturday at noon, at the Hog's Head Inn. I am sorry, but Gabrielle is attending Beauxbatons and will not be able to attend. I sincerely hope that I will be able to help you with whatever it is that you need.  
  
Until Saturday,  
Fleur.  
  
Harry let out a breath he didn't even realize he had been holding. He had only a few days to wait until he could get some real answers. He held the letter in his hand, concentrating and bringing up angry memories, trying to begin training himself with his new powers. The letter burst into a purple flame, and he let go. The letter was ash before it hit the floor.  
  
He stretched his arms, taking in a deep breath of air, and noticed that unlike the stagnant, unventilated floor area below, up here with all the windows it was actually.... pleasant. Harry made a mental note to come here when he needed to clear his head, before he hopped off the perch, dropped the ten feet to the ground and walked out of the room without even pausing.  
  
He made his way to his next class, Transfiguration, still elated that he was going to be receiving help on Saturday. He stopped just outside the door, however, realizing just what day today happened to be.  
  
Tuesday.  
  
He walked in just before the gong sounded, and made his way to his seat, deep in thought. Professor McGonagall stared at him, about to say something, when he looked up and made eye contact with her. Her face immediately softened, and she went about putting up the diagrams and incantations associated with today's project on her blackboard.  
  
"Today, we will be focusing on detail and creativity in your transfigurations. What you will be attempting to do is to transfigure the pebble in front of you into an ornate chair. It is vitally important that you concentrate hard on each detail you want to add, and keep them all in the forefront of your imagination as you cast the spell. Today's work will not only be graded on how complete your transfiguration is, but on the level of detail, the complexity of that detail, and how much imagination you put into it."  
  
The entire class, save for a few, were gaping at her. "WELL?!? Don't just sit there with your mouths open, begin!  
  
The class moved as one, setting their pebbles on the floor and concentrating on the details they wanted to apply. Harry closed his eyes, and in his mind's vision an ivory throne appeared, with vines, leaves, and flowers encompassing the arms and sides in silver and gold latticework. The top of the back had a phoenix with its wings spread perched upon it, reveling in its own glory. The phoenix itself was made from ivory and onyx, portraying a more lifelike model, and to accentuate this point, the magical bird's head would turn and look, sometimes preening itself. Other times, the wings would contract and ruffle a little before spreading them again, as though it was uncomfortable to hold them out all of the time.  
  
The same onyx ran down the back of the chair, intermingling with the ivory, creating an awe-inspiring scene of a castle with a moon behind it, not a silhouette, but a very detailed depiction of Hogwarts at nighttime. Small emeralds lined the borders of the chair, on all six sides, and a plump golden seat lay where it should for comfort.  
  
The image firmly in mind, he spoke the incantation perfectly, projecting the flawless throne he had envisioned into reality. He felt slightly drained afterwards, so he plopped himself down in his new chair and observed the rest of the class.  
  
No one had had as much success as he, and he wanted to just crawl into a corner and hide for he knew the attention that he was going to get as soon as McGonagall turned around from chastising Ron, who's chair was still stony and mostly circular.  
  
He looked to his left, and saw that Hermione's attempt was much better than Ron's, yet not as good as his. Her chair was a simple wood, with an open back and a few strips of wood for support in the middle of it. It looked like something you'd find at a church bake sale to sit and gossip in. Said creator of the chair was currently looking at Harry with a mixed look of awe and jealousy.  
  
McGonagall did eventually turn around to check on the rest of the class. Once her eyes landed on Harry, sprawled out in his 'chair', she muttered an "Oh, my" before doing more of a fall than a sit into Ron's spherical stone seat.  
  
"Mr. Potter...... I..... "Words failed her, and Harry was cringing. "I think you pass, Mr. Potter."  
  
*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~ *~*~*~*  
  
Harry settled down into his seat at the Gryffindor Table for supper, extremely famished for he had missed lunch that day and had a really early breakfast. On either side of him sat the twins, across sat Ginny and Hermione. He had said hello and gave a chaste kiss on the cheek of each twin, making Hermione's, Ginny's, and Ron's (who had been passing by to sit on the other end of the table) eyebrows shoot dramatically upward and their jaws to drop. Ron, not taking his eyes off from Harry, backed up a few spaces and sat down next to Ginny, on the other side from Hermione.  
  
"Something you want to tell us mate?" Ron asked, not believing what he was seeing, even through his knowledge of Harry's new skills.  
  
Harry said "Depends Ron, are you speaking to me again?" as he scanned the Great Hall, seeing the same shell shocked look on half the people in the room. He looked over to the professor's table, then did a double take when he saw Dumbledore sitting quite happily in the throne he had created in Transfiguration only a few hours earlier.  
  
He leaned over the table frantically whispering to Hermione. "Hermione, guess what Dumbledore is sitting in right this very second!"  
  
Hermione sat up straight, and as casually as she could, turned to look at the Headmaster. When she saw Harry's chair, she put her head to the table and laughed quietly into her hand.  
  
"What's so funny?" was said in stereo to Harry (courtesy of the twins), who gestured for the six of them to lean over, giving them a modicum of privacy. "Do you guys see Dumbledore's new chair? I made that in Transfiguration today."  
  
The twins and Ginny, the only ones having not seen it yet, looked up, before their eyes widened and turned awed gazes back to the Veela.  
  
"You made that, Harry? Out of what?" Padma finally managed to get out.  
  
"The assignment was to make an ornate chair out of a pebble."  
  
"No, seriously, what did you use to make it?"  
  
"That's what I used, what's wrong?" and Hermione backed him up with a nod and a puzzled look.  
  
"_Harry_" she began, "Not only is stone very hard to transfigure, but changing anything into other stones and gems takes more power than most school students have. So, for the last time, what really happened?"  
  
Harry sat back with an annoyed look. Why does no one ever believe him when unexpected things happen? "I used a pebble, Padma." He leaned back in to the circle, with the conspiratorial air of a secret-teller around him. "And I'll tell you how."  
  
He looked over the circle for effect, seeing if anyone was eavesdropping, and lowered his head again. He glanced backwards quickly, before stating "I'm Harry Potter, the only reason I'm still alive is because I'm capable of the impossible."  
  
Ginny, Hermione, and Ron groaned and leaned back, used to his barely noticeable sarcasm by now. The twins, who had spent considerably less time with him, just sat and stared at him. Harry knew that he shouldn't enjoy locking up people's cortexes like that, but it was just too much fun to pull one over on people.  
  
While the Patil's gears were grinding, trying to process the new information, the other four had a strained conversation, what with Hermione and Ron not speaking to each other.  
  
"Ron, we need to have a chat. But not tonight, I've had quite enough stress today already. I'm gonna wake you up early for breakfast, okay?"  
  
Ron nodded, still clearly upset, but at least not angry anymore.  
  
Harry gave the girls another chaste kiss on their cheeks, and rose, needing to speak with Dumbledore about Fleur's letter. 


End file.
